"The vampire in question hasn’t yet revealed himself,” Herst said, “so we can’t actually attack him without giving him a warning first.” Herst stood over his desk and wrote something down on two pieces of paper, then handed those two pieces of paper to both Syanide and Jed. “If things will go out of hands, this is your right to take out the bastard. We should hurry; we only have few hours before sunrise.” That being said, Herst grabbed a single gun and a shotgun along with a sword. Then they walked outside and got into the car.

"So lets go hunting!" Jed says as he nudges his Mekhet campanion. Jed grabs the glock sitting in the chest. He runs out to the car on Herst's heels. "Shotgun!" Jed announces as he climbs into the passenger seat and turns on the radio. As Herst started the car and headed out Jed checked the sharpness of his sword and checked the ammo in the glock. He didn't like firearms they were awfully cheap in a fight but in todays time they were neccessary as everyone had them. Jed much preffered his sword, mostly because there was little as satisfying as writing good poetry and feeling your sword rip through stuff. And this sword was a beauty, renassaince style it had a black onyx hilt with skulls on each end of the handguard. The blade while a little nicked was bright from polish and had his family crest etched into it. Not that he had inherited it just that he thought it looked cool when he custom ordered it. Jed looked out the window bringing his attention back to the hunting.

Piers noticed him getting ready for another shot. All he could think was that he didn’t really want to hurt the man. He should since his computer parts for a computer he was working on for someone were probably damaged and would need to be reordered and come out of his pocket at that. He didn’t want to hurt the man since to a point he recognized him as someone who had delivered to him in the past. He thought maybe this guy just thought he wasn’t a very good tipper. He only gave the deliverymen a little extra but it was enough in his opinion.

It wasn’t like it was everyday someone tried to kill him but it had been happening a lot more often lately. He had learned the best way to deal with stuff like this was normally the way that left it in the laws hands and made it seem like he was just the victim. He wanted to make sure this guy couldn’t kill him though and wouldn’t want to come back.

So he looked to the light bulb that was directly in the man line of vision and closed his eyes and made it brighten to the point it was brighter then a floodlight. That would take away he vision and make it so that he couldn’t shot very well.

“I don’t want you to hurt me and I don’t want to have to hurt you just forget trying to kill me and go home and live in peace. I will deal with the police that have probably been called by now and straighten everything out.”

Ghost
Longchester Hospital for the Insane
“I’m not sure I understand,” Hiram began slowly, making an effort to keep a level tone, “your parents are both alive and well, as is your brother James. Why would you draw them like that?” Hiram actually had some theories about why Annabell had drawn herself surrounded by her dead family. He thought that Annabell might be suffering from a Multiple Personality Disorder, and that one of her personalities believed that her family was dead, or wanted them to be at least.

“This is a dream I had about my family,” she said almost childishly. “You said you wanted to see my family and there she is.” Annabell did not seem to understand that what Hiram meant was for Annabell to draw a new picture of her family. But she seemed pretty happy about this one.

About then the door opened and one of the guards came in. “Hey,” he said rather angrily, “you’re not supposed to be here lady.” Annabell looked at the guard and said really calmly, like she had been practicing for hours. “I know,” she said, “but for some reason you don’t want me to go either.” The guard’s face quickly turned red, both from embarrassment and rage. “I wasn’t talking to you, you little freak!” he yelled, “I was talking to her!”
“I know you were,” Annabell said, still calmly, “but the look on your face was great.” Her calm turned into a smile. “I don’t think my crayon is as red as your face.” The guard was about to explode when Annabell continued. “This is my sister,” she said, “she’s her to visit me.”

The guard calmed down, although only a bit. “Well,” he said, “say goodbye to your sister, the doctor wants to see you in his office.” Annabell stood up and hugged Hiram, or actually Sandra. “I’ll see you later sis, won’t I?” and with a smile and a wave she left the room with the guard.

((OOC: Sorry for the rush. Just trying to finish up lose ends before Christmas))

---

Vampire
Somewhere in the Havens
The rain kept pouring down upon the streets and the slowly moving car in which Jed was sitting. One could hardly see anything in this kind of weather. Only an occasional lightning lit up the sky to reveal the rooftops which Herst had told Syanide to monitor. It was a crappy job for Syanide, but he did have a good eyesight.

Herst looked at Jed sitting next to him and looked at the sword that he held. “That is a fine looking blade you have there,” he said kinda hesitantly like he was trying to start a conversation. “I don’t remember seeing it at the armory. Where did you get it?”

The conversation did not last very long as Jed noticed an abnormal looking man standing at the corner of an alley. A single lightning revealed his bald head, pale and crusty skin, and his slightly pointy ears. His eyes were nearly glowing in the dark light and his hands were ‘armed’ with sharp claws. He was dressed in black robes that did not cover his head. His grin revealed two sharp fangs. He stood out there and did not even appear to be trying to hide.

((OOC: Dude, exceptional success (5 successes) on your perception roll is pretty good, specially when you only have 3 dice to roll (-2 penalty for poor illumination). Good to have you back by the way ))

---

Vampire
Twa Corbies, Old Longchester
“You could say that we are devoted loyalists to our superior.” Dorian grinned slightly, a bleak grin with no emotion attached. Almost forced it seemed. “Marcus knows nothing, and never should know anything about us until it is too late. After all, he is expecting you to meet with some poor bloke off the streets with information that interest him. This is an offer for you alone.” Dorian pulled out from his coat a rolled up piece of paper and untied the string that held it together. “I can see that you do not entirely trust me, but I am allowed to make you a smaller offer. Consider it an advance for your service.”

The paper seemed old and was hand-written with something that did not seem completely like ink.

I hereby swear this oath to my lord and I shall forever honor it until it is broken by either party or my lord ends it. For as long as I serve my lord I will do as I am told by him or his appointed councilor. For as long as I do so I will be rewarded with endless riches. If this oath is honored I will forever be immune to my lords wrath and no harm will come to whoever breaks this oath. Such is the words of my oath signed in blood and this oath I will honor until my lord ends it.

“I understand that this may be a hard decision,” said Dorian as Ren read over the paper, “but the rewards you will get at the end of your service will be much greater than endless riches.” He pulled out a pen from his pocket and put on the table, and from his other pocket he pulled out a cellphone. “I really can’t keep you here much longer. Dawn is nearing and I myself have other businesses to attend to. This offer is only to give you a taste of what we can offer you. If you feel like having the main course, call the number on that cellphone. I just need you to sign the deal and I will be off my way.” Dorian’s grin had been replaced by a serious face. The deal was on the table. The only thing that needed to be done was to pierce one’s skin with the pen and use it to write on the dotted line.

---

Werewolf
Somewhere in the Fieldriver district
William could no longer stand the irritation of the two wolves in front of him. They should learn how to show proper respect to their betters. But there was no time for verbal teachings. They would have to learn the quick and hard way. William needed to get Richard before he would leave this town and move on, and he did not really care who would get in his way.

William leaped towards the woman of the group. In midway he could feel his rage taking on a physical form. His muscles bulged, his body grew fur and he felt a quick, stinging pain as his bones and muscles grew in size. His weapon, the Silver Knuckles, grew along with him to better fit his newly enlarged fist. His clenched fists rippled through the air as he attacked Eliza, who could do nothing but try to keep the fists from connecting with her face.

The trained arms of William easily passed through her defenses and the Silver Knuckles connected with Eliza’s face. William could feel how Eliza’s jaw gave in and broke from William’s sheer strength, and Eliza could feel the burning pain from the silver and how the Silver Knuckles scraped the flesh off her cheek as blood filled her mouth and gushed out. Eliza fell back out of reach for William’s second punch.

Seeing as how a single punch nearly took out one of the wolves, William could already see victory. But the sight of sweet victory nearly blinded William from the attack of the other wolf. The wolf had already changed his shape to fit with William’s current form, the form of the man-wolf, the Gauru form. The claws of this beast came down upon William like daggers. William could feel how the claws dug into his torso and teared through his skin. The blood gushed forth from the wound and splattered the alley.

William stumbled. He could see the female opponent shape changing for the fight and the claws had wounded him pretty badly, but there was still enough fight in him to rip both of them apart. This might still turn out to be enjoyable.

---

Mage
Daiki Sato’s apartment
The light shone brightly enough to force the delivery man to close his eyes. “I don’t want you to hurt me and I don’t want to have to hurt you just forget trying to kill me and go home and live in peace. I will deal with the police that have probably been called by now and straighten everything out.”
The delivery man waved his gun. “You are supposed to die!” he yelled as he pulled the trigger for the second time. “You will not ruin our plans!” The bullet hit the wall next to Piers and the delivery man stumbled back into the hallway, covering his eyes from the searing light. He stumbled his way out, yelling on his way out how Piers was not supposed to be there. Once he was finally out, people from the other apartments started looking outside to have a look at the scene of crime. Their lives had usually been kinda dull. Somebody shooting in the building apparently made everybody excited.

***

Daiki Sato finally arrived to his apartment with groceries. “Hey, Piers,” he said as he closed the door, “would you mind explaining what missus Godfellow was talking about. Some shooting and...” A slight pause as Daiki entered the living room. “Where is my vase?”

((OOC: Sorry about rushing through the story a bit, but I didn’t know how to progress this if Piers doesn’t want to fight. Piers may call his mentor if you want and I’ll PM you with what he had to say))

This is a dream I had about my family,” Annabell replied, a smile on her face as she glanced down at the picture. “You said you wanted to see my family and there she is.”

"There ‘she’ is?" Hiram wondered. Unless his patient was referring to one of the mangled corpses that littered the floor in her sketch then that would surely place the girl herself among their number... then the female figure standing over them was whom? Another of Annabell’s personas?

He was about to put a further question to her, requesting clarification, when the door abruptly swung open to reveal one of the hospital’s security guards. Watching with some interest as Annabell took care of the situation Hiram was surprised at the sudden confidence and resourcefulness his new patient had shown in taking charge of the problem at hand. If she could somehow direct the same energy toward resolving the issues that had placed her here and to her everyday life at the hospital then the phantom was certain that she would scarcely need his help at all. In any event the ghost made a quick note of the man’s face and the name on his badge… should Hiram grow bored or short of things to do later then perhaps the guard would take a tumble down one of the hospital’s stairways. If nothing else he should have known better than to shout “freak” at a patient in psychiatric care.

For the present, however, knowing full well that a sudden violent display would create more issues than it would resolve, and not trusting what Annabell’s reaction might be, the ghost allowed himself to be escorted out. Waiting until the pair had turned the corner of the hospital corridor Hiram stopped to check the watch that Sandra wore on her right wrist. “Twenty-seven minutes”, the phantom coldly informed her, in reference to the duration of her possession, “you might have time for lunch after all.” With that information imparted the spectre took leave of the student’s mind, permitting her to slump, shaking, to the floor. Invisible once more he set off after the security guard to the doctor’s office, curious to see if anything could be learned from the interview about to take place.

OOC: No need to apologise, that was cool.

How did the exams go btw?

Ren's face showed no emotion at all as the man spoke, and even as he was handed the gruesome contract his face was as if it was cut in ivory. He picked up the fine parchment and held it slightly above the table, trying his very best to seem calm and collected even though his mind was racing and to be honest rather chaotic. As his eyes trailed over the dark red words on the contract, he almost felt as if his dead heart was beating hard with excitement in his chest once again as it had when he was still alive. Accepting the deal this man was offering was without a doubt beyond dangerous. The very idea of betraying one of the most powerful men he had ever had the pleasure of knowing was mind numbing. But simply signing this contract wouldn't be that dangerous, even if this was just a test cooked up by Marcus. He could easily back out of all accusations with simply saying he had signed it in order to find out more about this dangerous group.

Ren slowly put the parchment down on the table again and picked up the sharp dark pen, and examined it closely his eyes fixing upon its point as if he was deciding if it was sharp enough. But once again this was just something he did to buy more time. The deal itself was rather plain, and he couldn't deny the fact that it was very tempting and it even the thought of moving around the restrictions it set him exited him. But he couldn't help but worry, because if he did this, and this presumably Invictus group turned out to be significantly weaker than Marcus he would be completely and utterly f***ed. Not to mention the very good possibility that he was merely being used as a pawn that would be eliminated after everything was over. On second thought though, it wasn't uncommon for the Invictus to "invest" in the promising future Kings of the night like this. And looking at Ren's status and power compared to his young age he was definetly what would be considered promising.

"Alright Mister Grey, I Baron Ren Majere, Speaker of the Invictus will accept these terms for now"

He said with a slight grin on his face as he pierced his wrist with the pen, forcing his vitae into it.

"And i do hope this is the beginning of a nice and fruitful.. Arrangement.."

He said, his hands almost trembling with excitement as he wrote his name down on the fine parchment in beautiful flourished italic letters. He then spun the parchment around on the table and pushed it back to Dorian. He couldn't help but smile as he leaned back in his chair. Things certainly had taken an unexpected turn, but everything would be wonderfully exiting from now on.

He just hoped he hadn't signed a contract that would bring an untimely end to his Requiem.

"That is a fine looking blade you have there,” Hearst said kinda hesitantly like he was trying to start a conversation. “I don’t remember seeing it at the armory. Where did you get it?”

"It wasn't at the armory. I bought this blade on a cold winter night." Jed said gazing out the window. "I was hunting a werewolf, and I was out of silver bullets. Well the townsfolk didn't have any silver so thinking of another way to bring down my prey it occured to that pretty much anything chopped up doesn't rise again so I bought this blade and engraved it with my family crest in hopes of passing it down. That was before i was Turned. Whoa wait who's that?"

The who Jed was reffering to was an abnormal looking man standing at the corner of an alley. A single lightning revealed his bald head, pale and crusty skin, and his slightly pointy ears. His eyes were nearly glowing in the dark light and his hands were ‘armed’ with sharp claws. He was dressed in black robes that did not cover his head. His grin revealed two sharp fangs.

"Looks like our prey wants a meeting eh?" Jed pointed his gun and attempted to get a shot in as the car pulled over.

“Daiki it isn’t my fault.”

Piers noticed that Daiki Sato wasn’t happy about the vase.

“He just started shotting up the place as I was signing for my packages”

The vase didn’t look in very good condition it might now but able to be fixed even by non- normal means it had shattered when shot. Piers gathered up his packages and brought them in from the hall.

“He also put a hole in the wall and I think the light right above us might be going to go out soon.”

After he explained all this to Daiki or at least told it to him. He picked up the phone to call his mentor only to get no answer. Maybe he wasn’t home yet.

Ghost
Longchester Hospital for the Insane
“Twenty-seven minutes, you might have time for lunch after all.” Hiram left the body of Sandra who seemed both scared and confused. She did not seem to remember anything, or at least she did not want to remeber it. It was doubtful that she would ever show her face again in the Asylum.

***

Night crept over, and soon all light turned to darkness. Doctor Einhart was used to work late, and since it was his first day, he took the time to read over the files of the worst cases, occasionally looking towards the file of Annabell Holmes. Time flew by, and the cigarettes and the coffee only worked so good. Sooner or later, Einhart would have to get some release. From time to time he looked at Annabell’s file, and from the file to the cabinet where he kept a secret, locked box in which he kept couple of sedative shots for his personal use.

Finally, he could not take the pressure much longer. He stood up and left the office with one of the shots. An evil smile crept upon his face. Soon he would get his release.

---

Vampire
Somewhere in the Havens
Herst listened to Jed’s story, as unbelievable as it sounded. No man could take out a werewolf by himself, specially not if he was a mere mortal. But the story interested Herst and he wanted to hear the rest of it; it looked like it was going to be a slow night anyway. But then, out of the blue, Jed called out. “Whoa wait who's that?” he said, pointing at the grim figure by the alley. Herst drove the car closer and that was when Jed pulled out his gun. Before Herst could say a word, Jed had already fired a shot at the creature. The bullet hit the left arm of the supposed vampire.

“Jesus Christ condemn you, Jedidah!” Herst screamed out. “What ever happened to ‘diplomacy first, violence later’ I was talking about?” Syanide only smiled at the event, grabbed his weapons and rushed out of the car as it had stopped completely. The rain kept hammering on the roof of the car and the vampire they were hunting had disappeared from sight. There was no sign of it before it landed on top of the car, denting the roof considerably.

---

Vampire
Twa Corbies, Old Longchester
"Alright Mister Grey, I Baron Ren Majere, Speaker of the Invictus will accept these terms for now"
As Ren signed the deal in blood, a small grin made its appearance on Dorian’s face. It was much like the grin that Ren saw earlier, without any emotion attached. Dorian accepted the parchment and looked over it with a smile, like he enjoyed seeing Ren’s name by himself.

“Very good, ‘Baron’ Majere,” he said, emphasizing the title as to correct himself for only calling him ‘mister’, “enjoy your newly found fortune. Once we are in need of your service, we will call you on the cell.” With the same grin that he showed while Ren signed the document, Dorian left the Twa Corbies. Ren felt somehow different after Dorian left. Better in some ways, richer in others.

---

Werewolf
Somewhere in the Fieldriver district
((OOC: This fight was fought online via MSN))

The fury of the two werewolves was alarming to William’s senses. The male had already changed into his combat form and shredded his clothes and the woman was changing her's as well. William tightened his grip on the Silver Knuckles. He knew how best to fight this bunch. He would finish off the woman and then turn his attention to the other one who seemed like a better fighter.

William willed his spiritual essence to heal his wound and then turned his fist at Eliza again, but this time he aimed at her chest. The Silver Knuckles crunched her ribs and burned her flesh, causing her searing pain and burning agony. The chest as whole nearly collapsed and William retrieved his fist from her burnt wound. He could feel his body forcing itself to close the wounds as the other wolf attacked him with his bearing fangs. The teeth sunk deep into William’s shoulder and ripped the flesh, leaving a nasty wound in its wake. “Run, Eliza!” the other wolf screamed in the First Tongue, sounding only as barks and growls to the untrained ear.

Eliza ran as fast as she could, but her wounds were severe. Her senses were numb and her chest was broken. The only thing that held her together was the will to keep running. Running away from the battle that raged behind her.
The other wolf rushed towards William with claws and fangs, missing him only by an inch. The Silver Knuckles hit the wolf in the gut, and he could feel the burn and the pain as his entrails were crushed by the hit. A gush of blood spilled from his mouth and gushed over William’s fur. The other wolf raged. His blood boiled, his rage surfaced and he lost control. William could feel the claws ripping at the flesh of his face, right from under his jaw and over the left side of his snout. The blood gushed over his face while he willed his other wounds to close. That wolf was causing him more wounds than he could deal with, but his next attack would even the odds.

William swung his fist at the wolf, but the Silver Knuckles touched nothing but the red fur of his opponent. Distracted by the miss, the other wolf launched his jaws at William’s arm, locking himself onto the flesh and bones. Regardless of William’s attempts, the wolf would not let his arm go. In a sudden movement, William ripped his arm loose, flensing the skin and muscle off where the wolf had locked his jaws. His Silver Knuckles came down upon the raving beast’s skull, forcing it down to the pavement where his fist crushed the beast’s head and spilled remains over the alley.

William had been victorious in this battle and had rights to the spoils. That male werewolf had left him a fine weapon and the woman had not bother taking her own weapons when she ran away. William somehow felt good about this fight. His form was forced backed into that of a human soon enough but his body could take it. He would need some stitches, but as far as he saw things, he got out of this fight in much better shape than his opponent.

((OOC: Using a silver weapon against another werewolf is a violation of Harmony. I rolled the dice and William’s Harmony has dropped to 5. Feel lucky though, you succeeded at the derangement roll))

---

Mage
Daiki Sato’s apartment
“Daiki it isn’t my fault,” Piers exclaimed and told him what had happened to the vase. Daiki did not seem overly concerned, these kinds of things happened rather often after Piers moved in. The occasional cultists and corrupted mages either attempted to kidnap or utterly destroy Piers. A man with a gun was no danger to Piers, or at least not to Daiki’s eyes.

Daiki walked into the living room and picked up a piece of the vase. “Why is it always the vase?” he asked himself as Piers attempted unsuccessfully to call him mentor on the phone.

***

After cleaning up the vase and put in a rubble on the floor, Daiki made some tea. Although he was young in mind, Daiki was old in body, and tea always pleased him. “So, Ryozo told me about that dream of yours. Any ideas what it means?”

The afternoon drew slowly to a close, but Hiram cared little for its passage. A steady trickle of white-coated doctors, hospital staff and visitors made there way through the corridor as the day progressed, and the spectre monitored each dispassively as the hours wore on. Many, feeling a sudden chill as they walked past, or even through, the invisible phantom pulled coats or jackets tighter about their shoulders but they did nothing to disturb the peace of his ward and Hiram let them pass unhindered. Musing idly upon memories of its own tenure at the hospital the wraith was surprised at his recollection of a death in this wing some seven decades past. A burly, black-haired man had been wheeled in, fastened in a straight jacket, gibbering wildly about the devils that had infested his wife and children and screaming aloud for salvation. If hospital rumour was to be believed, the story went that he had beaten his family to death with a shovel, and, though properly sedated, the patient had been found dead in his cell by the end of the evening, his head beaten open against the far wall. The case had been judged suicide, an interpretation which the junior doctor had few qualms in accepting at the time… now, however, Hiram was not so sure. Accidents had happened over the years, one of the hospital porters had succumbed to a heart attack in the course of his duties and the black-haired man had been only one of seven patients to meet his end during the course of the phantom’s tenure alone. Yet Hiram had seen no sign of any ghostly presence save for his own and he could hardly help but question- where were those who by all rights should have found themselves likewise fettered and why had they been permitted to pass on while he found himself still chained to this place?

**

The last ebbs of daylight had darkened overhead and the ward all but emptied with the end of the working day when the spectre heard footsteps echo down the hallway once more. The German doctor, Einhart, was approaching, a small black case tucked under one arm, and an ugly grin upon his face as he approached Annabell’s room and to Hiram’s mind there could be no mistaking his intent.

Relishing the prospect of a confrontation, the phantom let his guise slip. The flesh of the affable, pale face he had worn heartbeats before shrivelled, bloated and atrophied in turn as his manifestation thickened, taking on the appearance of putrid flesh. A gaping, blood-spattered wound peeled open in the back of the apparition’s skull as its pupils swivelled backward, leaving the spectre’s eyes a stark and luminous white. The starched and spotless lab coat in which the doctor had been clad deteriorated about him, tattering as the material rotted and acquiring spatters of dirt, grime and drying gore. He had promised Einhart one warning, Hiram reminded himself, and though he would make certain of cutting out this human cancer before it could sully his beloved hospital further, he would not yet grant himself the pleasure of snuffing out the old man’s life.

Re-emerging into visibility a few feet in front of the German doctor, cutting him short as he approached Annabell’s door, the wraith lurched unsteadily towards Einhart. A malevolent snarl revealed yellowed teeth, lengthened to a mass of jagged fangs, as the apparition towered over its victim until he could feel its rancid, dead breath upon his face. “In my day we didn’t f*** with our patients, boy,” Hiram hissed and a fat, white maggot was dislodged from the phantom’s rotting lips as he spoke, falling on the lapel of Einhart’s jacket and writhing uncertainly at the feel of the strange texture.

***

[Insert Einhart’s reaction]

Chuckling unpleasantly, the sound a dry rasp in his dead throat, Hiram faded into invisibility once more. He had enjoyed the fear his appearance had provoked in the new Head Doctor, and if the warning had been insufficient to keep the old man on the straight and narrow then the spectre relished the prospect of driving his point home more forcefully. Whoever ran Longchester Hospital would honour their duties, make no mistake, and Hiram was there to police the line, to chastise and punish those who would bring shame on the old place.

Struck by a sudden whim, Hiram turned to glance back at his new patient’s room, checking to see if the light was still on. As the surge of malevolence which had animated his encounter with Einhart passed the manifestation softened, returning to the pale, wan apparition he had worn for most of the afternoon once more. The worm, thrashing on the floor where it had fallen from the doctor’s coat, reverted to a streak of luminescent white ectoplasm and slithered quickly across the floor to reunite with the heel of Hiram’s left shoe. Perhaps the ghost could turn its ethereal state to some advantage in mending Annabell’s mind: for if her bad dreams could be addressed then the uninterrupted sleep could only serve to add strength for the girl’s recovery. Tomorrow the ghost might even try to persuade her to take down some of those wretched drawings, he was certain that surrounding herself with such grotesque images could hardly prove conducive to good mental health.

“I’ll assume he told you everything I told him. Well it is probably something you should know about since I assume it will mean at least a little danger in the apartment at least to your things.”

Piers went over to the fridge and grabbed a root beer and went and sat in a chair close enough that he wouldn’t have to speak to loudly or repeat himself except for Daiki to repeat a detail so that he could better glean the meaning.

Speaking just loud enough that only Daiki would be able to hear him and not the nearby apartment though thin walls.

“Well I will tell you the same thing I told him. It began with me standing outside it was cold and autumn. The wind was blowing colder and colder. I couldn’t feel the coldness of the wind even though I knew it was blowing and I couldn’t feel its touch on my skin. I felt happy for the first time in a long time there was nothing troubling me. I was walking through the park with my fiancé and we had the whole park to ourselves and we were happy. I could only see so much of the park since I could only tear my attention from my fiancé for so long and only so far. The leaves were almost all off the trees that I could see. The grass wasn’t covered with the amount that should have been on the trees though. What I could see of the park wasn’t familiar but I knew where I was but this is weird while in there I might have known where I was and I could still find my way around the park but I don’t know where it is. There were no animal sounds like there should have been that I noticed. As I said I could only tear my attention so far from the women. I couldn’t even make out her clothes.”

He took a drink of root beer to let that much sinks in and started up again.

“So as I was saying I was walking with my fiancé when I realized I don’t know her but she is my fiancée. I have never seen her before and I didn’t actually see here even then. Every time I tried I didn’t look at her but through her like she wasn’t even there at all her face was always blurry when I did this and never in focus. So there is no way I could identify her even if I were to walk right into her. On the bridge we stopped or at least she did I stop also but I got the feeling I was more just going along with the flow. She looked me right in the eyes but I still couldn’t see hers or her face. I knew I was saying something but I couldn’t make any of it out. I was asking her something though I felt something important I felt really important. Then she looked away she didn’t want to look into my eyes anymore. Then she spoke I remember her words exactly “Bad things are coming,” her voice didn’t sound completely human and seemed like two voices speaking as one and the other had a hint of something old mixed into it and it wasn’t very kind sounding. It was weird since I had never heard her voice before but some how I knew what it should sound like and the other sounded familiar but I have thought on it and I have no idea where I have heard anything like it before. She continued “Bad things are coming and you could save many lives. But if you do you will be risking your own life” again she looked away from me into the woods on the other side of the bridge and I got the feeling I had some how done this before or heard all of this before. I looked with her into those woods and I saw two eyes looking staring back at me. I could feel fear rushing into me. Something big and bad was in those woods and I wouldn’t be able to escape it. I heard a little girl’s voice then or at least it seemed to be a little girl’s voice and it said “You aren’t supposed to be here” it came from behind me. The woman I was with was gone but the newly arrived girl seemed surprised at seeing me on the bridge. I could see the girl in complete focus she had black and long hair and did not seem completely grown up like a teenager, yet dressed in a cute, pink dress that would only fit children. “You are not safe here” she said with tears in her eyes looking toward the woods afraid of what was there.”

He took another drink of the root beer and continued.

““HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...” I heard a deep and calm sound, almost like if the wind had been given a voice. “Please! You have to run!” the girl cries out. But I don’t run. I can’t run. I think about it but my feet will not move. “Yes, run as much as you like.” The voice followed the wind. It was then that I realized that the voice in the wind was the same voice that intruded into my fiancé’s voice or at least the woman who had seemed to be my fiancé. It was the voice of the beast hiding in the woods. “Your feet will not move fast enough to outrun me.” I looked into the woods again. The eyes were still there, glowing red. The sky turned darker and the wind became colder, but I still could not feel it. The beast frightened me, but still I could not run away from it. The girl behind me had fallen down and started crying.
“Please,” I heard between her sobs, “help me.”
“This is not your place, wizard,” the beast said, “but your life I shall take nonetheless.” The beast jumped out of the woods and in one flash, I could feel giant teeth ripping through me and the beast passing me by. The concrete bridge embraced me and I heard the girl’s scream as the beast tore her apart. I could see the blurry outlines of a wolf standing over the bloody carcass of the girl, and again I heard her voice. “Please... help... me...” and that was where I woke up. I threw up my shield and went into meditation to get all details I could.”

He took another drink of root beer and realized he had drained the bottle he was returning from getting another when he heard Daiki’s reply.

Willam reverted to his hishu-form and looked at the splattered heap before him. Fighting hadn't been the smartest decision, but there was no helping it. He hadn't fought for weeks, and just watching a typical bar-brawl got his blood boiling. Too bad such a thing, simple for most people, had caused the werewolf before him to die like a feral beast in Death Rage.

He felt his essence flow through him as he instantly turned into his Dalu-form. He picked up his trenchcoat off the ground and put it on. A little tight, but he had made sure it could fit him in dalu-form when he bought it. He picked his opponents' weapons up and concealed them under his coat. He managed to keep them from shaving his skin off by wrapping the remains of his tattered clothes around them. They weren't exactly handy to have there in case he got in a fight, since he couldn't get to them easily and they only weighed him down.

He tasted the blood on his silver knuckles and sniffed the air. The escaping female was not far away. Of course, she couldn't move very fast in her condition. William followed her trail through the alley and into the street beyond.

The trail led him to a playground not far away. It had only taken him five minutes to track her. She lay in the middle of the playground, not moving. William sighed. Well, at least this meant he didn't have to strike her down from behind. He'd have let her run if he hadn't needed to shut her up. Her shapechanging had, of course, torn her clothes so she lay there naked. William normally wouldn't have cared, but he didn't really want a group of kids to find a woman's naked body the next day. He hid her in some bushes nearby.

He needed new clothes, that was certain. He also needed to reclaim his essence and then find out where Richard was.

He began having second thoughts. Did he really need clothes after he'd killed Richard? He'd never been this close to finding him before, he'd never thought about what lay beyond that. Would he go back to his tribe to beg forgiveness? Would he live like a beast in the wild, shunned by both humans and his own people? He would find out afterwards. Now only revenge mattered. William found himself an alley and tested his newly dead opponents' weapons. He needed to know whether there was a spirit bound in them.

Ren took a few deep breaths as Dorian walked out of the shabby old pub before doing anything, he really couldn’t risk making any bad judgments at this point. He was dancing a dangerous dance here, a single slip could end up in him getting a bit more tanned than he preferred.

“Thomas.. Get in here.”

He called out after his short break and a couple of moments later a short man came walking into the pub. He was wearing a fine pressed black suit, a white shirt and a fashionable black tie. But that didn’t do very much to diminish how gray and old this man looked. He was only in his late fifties but he looked more like he was in his late seventies even though it was quite obvious he hadn’t yet lost much of his youthful strength.

“You called for me Sir?”

He said, his voice sounding even older than he looked as he walked close enough to Ren for a decent conversation. But as much as Ren would have loved to talk to the old man, who was really the only one in his gang who was old enough to understand the slightest bit about the way he thought, he really had no time.

“I need you to trail that man Dorian Grey, find out everything about him you can and I cannot press how important it is that you don’t get noticed… Go!”

Ren said in his normal soft but commanding voice as he waved the man away, waiting until he had left the pub before he moved towards the door himself. It was at times like these that he was thankful for his loss of humanity, if his emotions where all as intense as they had been when he was alive he probably couldn’t even function right now. Not after virtually selling away his life. Absent-mindedly he took his Blackberry out of his pocket and went online to check his assets. For a horrible moment there was nothing, his accounts where the same as ever before, but only a couple of seconds later the numbers started changing. And they where changing at such a rate that Ren couldn’t help but grin widely, but this really wouldn’t do. The money trail was well covered but he had no doubts this flow of cash would be noticed and he would have a lot to explain.

“This will not do, I’ve already jumped into the rabbits hole, that won’t be changed. But I could at least slow my fall a bit.. “

He said to himself as he began threading the money into a few other routs, something he had become quite accustomed to doing since he spent most of his life dealing with ill gotten money that needed to be hidden. Within a couple of minutes he felt that he had disguised and thinned out the income well enough, funneling a big chunk of it into his company and splitting the rest between ten different accounts in various countries over the world. It was probably a bit to much but it didn’t hurt to be safe, you never know who might be trying to take you down and what kind of influence he has. He of course wasn’t completely satisfied, he was no financial wiz, he would get a real professional to hide all the trails when he had time but this would have to do for now. In slow measured steps he walked out and stepped to his black BMW M5 and waited until one of his men opened the door for him. He sat down into the car and signaled for Jonathan or “Twitch” like the men liked to call him to join him in the back seat and watched as the fat bastard Drew sat down in the drivers seat. Not that he was actually that fat, he was 6’2 and 210 pounds, but Ren’s standards for physical appearance where nearly impossible to stand up to. He had never met a woman or man in this world that he couldn’t criticize over something. He began their little drive with calling one of Marcus’s servants and asked them to convey to him that the information given had been nothing worth noticing and the bum who gave it had been taken care of to make sure there was no threat to the masquerade. After that annoying formality his mind went to the business at hand.

“John, I need you to gather up the local youth gangs for me, its about time we step in and take those kids and try to make something out of them..”

He said as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes to help him focus, not even noticing as Drew answered his cell phone as he went over the plan he was formulating for the tenth time in his head, trying to see some flaws, terrified of the thought of overlooking something. Some might call it typical Ventrue paranoia but he didn’t care, he thought it was very normal to be afraid of getting maimed and left in the sun.

“Use whatever tool you think will work best on each of those leaders, seduce them with the idea of riches and power, terrify then through the idea of bodily harm or the harm of a loved one, I don’t care. But do try to make sure they don’t hate us to much, I need them at least partially loyal.. I want them in my VIP room at 3 am tomorrow morning..”

He said and grinned slightly at Twitch who obviously didn’t have anything worth saying since he didn’t say a thing. The grin on his face widened at that, out of all his men he knew he could trust Twitch the best to get the job done properly. The man was psychotic to be sure, but he was without a doubt the most capable of his men and the smartest and thankfully he also had the mental strength to keep his illness under control.

“Ehh, boss.. That was Edward… He… He says that Irish bastard Koun tried to run away with three Kilo’s of pure Bolivian white..”

He mumbled, making Ren want nothing more that to poke his eye’s out with a ice pick. There where few other things that annoyed him as much as an ugly fat bastard that couldn’t even communicate like normal people. But the man was talented, there was no denying that, not only was he the best driver Ren had ever known but he was also by far the most vicious basher he had ever had under him.

“Tell them to give him a lesson in proper manners and bring him to the usual place and keep him there. I will see to him tomorrow around midnight, make sure that he is at least capable of speaking when I arrive..”

Ren said with a soft and uninterested voice, although inside of his head there was a voice cursing the bloody ginger waste of carbon. But he was also secretly thankful for this, he really needed something to went his emotions on right now. When they finally arrived in front of the building where he lived Ren didn’t even bother to wait for his driver to open the door but did it himself and stepped out, picking up his phone again and dialed a number as he walked up to his apartment, ignoring the goons that came to great him and escort him up there. So much to do, so little time.

“Hello..?”

A small and thin voice replied on the phone.

”Hey Tim, could I speak to your father for a moment?”

Ren said with the cheerful voice he always used on kids, he couldn’t help but smile slightly as he listened to the kid run with the phone in his hand, cheerfully exclaiming it was Mr. Majere. How long would it be till that cheer turned into bitter hate he wondered, Smith wasn’t exactly the best father and husband.

“Boss, what can I do you for this night?”

Smith asked, his voice rough from either as sore throat or screaming, Ren guessed it was the later

“Why is your dear boy up at such a late hour? Shouldn’t he be in bed?”

Ren asked, slightly amused. Smiths endless around the clock fights with his wife never failed to amuse him, especially since he almost always lost, that woman was terrifying.

“Me and the wife had a bit of a squabble, the kid just woke up in the middle of it and couldn’t go to sleep again.. You know how it is..”

He said, obviously at least unconsciously aware of the amusement in Ren’s tone.

“But enough with the idle chatter, I have a job for you.. It involves a vacation from the wife for a few days and a trip to London, You’ll love it..”

Ren said with a more serious and somber tone as he stepped into the elevator leading up to his place.

“I want you to go to London and find a few soldiers of fortune there, I want you to use your information network to find me Ex-SAS members, soldiers discharged for excessive use of violence, all the gritty skilled fellows you can get your hands on, the price is no issue.. Your leaving at 8, goodnight”

He said and hung up, now the only thing left was to get contractors to change his apartment and club and to get the Police chief under his snare. But that would have to wait for the next night, for now, all he wanted was rest.

Ghost
Longchester Hospital for the Insane
Einhart chuckled with excitement as he came closer to Annabell’s room. Before moving any further, the ‘good’ doctor looked around to make sure that no one was anywhere near. The security staff didn’t include many employees and they had a lot of ground to cover. Einhart would have all the time he needed to finish things up. The room was in plain view. Soon he would get the release he needed before going home to his hag of a wife.

But suddenly something happened that the doctor had not thought of as possible. Right in front of him appeared a person, dressed like a doctor and with flesh as rotten as an old corpse. The eyes were deep and empty, and fat, white maggot crawled out of the man’s mouth as he spoke in a hissing voice. “In my day we didn’t f*** with our patients, boy.” For a second, Einhart couldn’t move, like if his whole body had frozen in a fraction of a second. Indeed, he looked by far paler than when he came in that very morning. When the second had passed, Einhart started running, and whimpered and screamed as he did. Within seconds, his presence had disappeared from the hallway completely. The only thing left were traces of liquid where the doctor stood and the sedative shot that he had dropped on his run.

Proud with delivering the message, Hiram reverted to his invisible self. He glanced at Annabell’s door, to see if there was any hint at light coming from there. And there was. Faint light crept from under the locked door. Inside, Annabell sat on the floor and stared intently at the door, as if it would suddenly disappear or come alive if she would look away.

---

Vampire
Ren Majere’s penthouse
Ren used his phone several times on his way home. Now that he had the money, Ren had a lot of things to take care of. One of them were to hire thugs. No, soldiers. Soon the wheels would start turning in his favor.

Ren got up to his penthouse. A finely decorated and fitting for his status and demeanor. There was only one thing he neither wanted in the apartment or expected to find there. Samuel Maxwell, his superior within the criminal organization and generally frightening guy to most, and three of his thugs were waiting for Ren to appear.

“Hello, Ren,” Maxwell casually said. The black man knew how to play Ren’s nerves. He was dressed like rich man that he was; in a gray suit that almost looked black in the lack of light, a red tie, silk shirt and a black coat. His three thugs all wore black and openly held their guns in their hands. Maxwell always wore his glasses. Even Ren knew that he couldn’t see without them. “You kept us waiting, Ren. That is not nice, specially not after all the trouble we had to get here.” The smile on Maxwell was just another thing that annoyed Ren. Just when things were starting to be all good, Maxwell and his entourage had to show up.

---

Werewolf
Somewhere in the Fieldriver district
The battle was over. William felt like he had vented somewhat and could use some resting. However, there was the matter of the woman who got away. If she would get to her pack and report about the fight, he would be in serious trouble. He did not have much time, but still found tattered clothes off himself and his opponents that he could use to wrap the weapons that the two had with them and left behind. He cleverly hid them under his extra large coat and tasted the blood off the Silver Knuckles before tracking down the woman.

The tracking did not take long and within minutes he found the body of the woman in a playground. Luckily, this late at night there wasn’t anyone around in the playground, but since her clothes had ripped apart when she changed her shape earlier it would not be proper if any children would find her in this state. Not to mention the gruesome wound she had on both her chest and face from when he hit her with the Silver Knuckles. Apparently, when she was forced back into human form, her body could not deal with the wounds and so it gave in. He hid her in a nearby bush, away from plain sight.

Afterwards he moved to a darkened alley to test the weapons he had ‘rightfully’ stolen from his deceased opponents. The man’s sword was not really big, William held it in one hand, but it seemed old-fashioned and well preserved, but for all William could tell it could have been just newly made. It was not silver though, and neither were the two shorter blades which had belonged to the woman. Although they seemed primitive, there was something about them. Runes on these blades indicated that a spirit or spirits had been bound to them. William knew they were fetishes made for fighting, but exactly what they did eluded him.

“You fight well, sir.” The voice came from the street where two men stood. One of them was neatly dressed in a black suit, his hair finely combed and he wore both dark shades and black leather gloves. The other man was big in most ways. He was as big as William’s Dalu-form and with just as much muscle, but he did not look or smell like one of the People. There was something off about him though; his nose for one seemed somehow flat, like something had pushed it too far upwards, and his eyes looked dull. This man did not look like a thinker, but a man of action.

“You fight well,” the man in the suit repeated, “but you need to learn to choose your fights more wisely.” The man stepped into the alley but the brute only stood there. “You can call me Dorian Grey, and I believe I can be of some service.”

---

Mage
Daiki Sato’s apartment
Daiki listened carefully to Piers’s description of the dream. He joined him in the drinking of root beer and analyzed everything that Piers said. When the story had been told, Daiki had already finished his beer. A short silence before Daiki spoke.
“That is... interesting,” he said. He seemed somewhat worried and quickly stood up to fetch more root beer for both him and Piers. “But what do you think it means? Any ideas?”

Before Piers could give him an answer the phone suddenly rang. The voice on the other side was Ryozo’s. “Piers, I didn’t find anything that could help but there might be a person who can.” The voice seemed somewhat in a hurry, like there was no time for chit-chat. “I need you to meet me in front of Scarlet Hearts in the Fieldriver district as soon as you can. Daiki knows the address and should be able to take you there.”

***

The day had passed very quickly, or the night had come in very early. By the time Daiki and Piers reached the Scarlet Hearts, it was already time for most moral members of the community to stay at home with the family, but this was also the time when the infamous brothel known as Scarlet Hearts made most of their businesses. Ryozo was waiting outside by the entrance, just like he said he would.

Both Daiki and Ryozo spoke to each other in a serious manner, but in a language that Piers did not understand. Daiki somehow seemed worried while Ryozo seemed much more determined. Once they had finished speaking, Daiki went back into the car where he was going to wait for them he said.
“Come on, Piers,” Ryozo said, “she’s waiting inside.”

There where many things Ren would rather have seen as he walked into his apartment. That including a sledge hammer speeding towards his face and a gang of vampire hunters. At least they probably wouldn’t stink the place up as much as this, filthy creature. For a short moment he just stood there and stared, he was furious, outraged, he didn’t even hear the first few things Maxwell said to him, to great was his anger. But thankfully it didn’t take him too long to regain control, and force his emotions as far down into the depths of his soul as he could. A polite smile crossed his face, it was slightly forced and rigid compared to his normal flawless faked smile but seeing how he wanted nothing more than to tear out the man’s windpipe that wasn’t a small accomplishment.

“And standing in my apartment with weapons draw really isn’t nice, could you please Ask your men to put those away”

Ren said, weaving his gift of domination into his words as soon as he go eye contact. His was voice calm and polite though it carried an edge to it that clearly showed that he did not appreciate this gesture of hostility. With a wave of his hand he then sent his own men away as he walked toward the bar on the other side of the room. Normally he would have kept as many men as he could around him in a situation like this but since he doubted his men would go against Maxwell at his command.

“So what brings you here? And.. do you want a drink?”

Ren said, smiling slightly as he positioned himself behind the bar, feeling slightly more secure by the illusion of cover the wooden thing created in his mind. As well as giving him a sense of separation from the black filth that now occupied this room. He knew that the man before him was one of the most powerful mortals in Britain, he knew the man could undoubtedly bring him to his final death if he so chose although his unholy nature might be able to save him. But no matter how he tried to look at the man as his boss and superior, he never saw anything but a bloody monkey in a suit. A nice suit admittedly, but no matter how you dress a nigger up, he in the end is nothing but a bloody monkey.

“One day.. I’m going to take everything you own, and I’m going to kill you..”
Ren thought as he let his fingers trail over a decorated handgun he kept behind the bar, trying his best and failing at remembering what kind of rounds it was loaded with. But he guessed they where hollow points, hoping he wouldn’t have to fire them anytime soon.

((Ren Uses dominate on Maxwell, the bold letters being the "Command" He enforced))

Its appetite for terror sated, for the present at least, the spectre turned to glance back at the ward behind it, pleased to note that the light was still on. Willing itself to take form once more the spirit reshaped itself, emerging in the dim light first as a thin column of white smoke before thickening once more into the pale, ethereal brown-suited man it had worn earlier that afternoon.

***

Hiram made his way back down the corridor, the soles of his shoes never quite making contact with the panelled floor beneath his feet. Pausing for a moment to view the offending object with distaste, the phantom stepped over the sedative shot from where the new Head Doctor had flung it in his fright: unless Einhart recovered the presence of mind to retrieve it before the night was through it would no doubt raise some embarrassing questions when the cleaning staff discovered it there the following morning. Still, no matter, the hospital cared less for what the outside world, with which he came into contact but infrequently, might think of the institution than for the maintenance of good practice within his domain. He would count the job well done until such time as a second, final, lesson might be in order.

Peering through the door of Annabell’s room the phantom could perceive his patient sitting cross-legged on the floor, her attention absorbed on the wooden panels before her. Had she perhaps been alarmed by the disturbance outside, the dead psychologist could hardly help but wonder, certainly she could hardly help but have heard Einhart’s startled scream. For almost as long as he could remember, Hiram had sought to deal with his life by dividing it into neat compartments, until in death he now found himself unable to function save through one of two unconsciously crafted personas, and any cross-over could have unpleasant complications. Perhaps it would have been better to have extinguished the old man altogether, the ghost mused, though until now it had never been his habit to do much more than frighten and warn where he could. It was almost as though she was waiting for someone… something… the phantom decided, as he drew nearer, though surely she had no way of knowing that she would be called upon that evening by either Einhart or himself.

Affixing a gentle smile onto his apparition’s face, Hiram continued through the doorway, regretting somewhat that he was unable to knock and give his patient time to compose herself before entering. He hoped at least that there would be no repetition of the unpleasant scene that afternoon… not sure he wanted to deal with a second bout of tears that day.

Choosing his words carefully, reluctant to tax his strength any more than necessary through direct communication, the apparition began: “Annabell, there’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you. I can take care of your nightmares, if you’ll let me, in fact there’s no need for unpleasant dreams at all.”

OOC: That’s another 2 Essence spent (down to a total of 10) to make another couple of Ghost Speech rolls.