Since they wouldn’t say more on where stuff was and who had it that left the girl who he didn’t understand why they hadn’t tried to find yet since they had no idea how long the girl had been being worked on.

“So how do we find the girl. Since we have no idea how long the beast has been working on her.”

“Hiram,” Annabell replied, finally mustering the courage to speak, “things are going bad.”
“I’m sure I can take care of that,” the ghost replied offhandedly; the girl was terrified already, and it hardly seemed appropriate to further burden her with his personal doubts. “Oh, and when Doctor Mullins returns, perhaps you could remind her that she has nothing to worry about? She does a good job here, and I’ve no intention of imposing upon her further.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to see what can be done about our uninvited visitor. Perhaps you should try to relax, put on some music or something. I’ll return by the end of the evening and we can work on a few more hours’ sleep.” The phantom’s manner was brisk, though not altogether unsympathetic- there were a great many more loose ends for him to take care of and he simply could not afford to spend much more time here.

[OOC: If Annabell has nothing further to say.]

His work here done for the present, Hiram neatly unfolded Einhart’s signed permit, ripping it into a multitude of tiny pieces and depositing them tidily in the room’s wastepaper bin. Strolling quickly to the end of the ward, the spectre released his grip on the security guard’s mind: Tom Bradley had official permission for the morning’s absence and Hiram was too preoccupied with the situation at hand to waste time considering any further possible complications. There was a strange presence in his hospital and as the disembodied spectre continued through the familiar maze of wards and corridors he was unable to altogether brush off the sensation that there some malevolent force was close at hand, lurking unseen and monitoring him as he pressed forward.

It took some hours, weaving his way through the outlying wards… those that had not been refurbished, but the ghost had no concept of exhaustion. Old crisp packets, broken needles and other refuse rustled and crinkled beneath Hiram’s ethereal feet, unwelcome reminders of a recent abuse upon the old place from which it had scarcely yet recovered. The spectre could hardly help but question: once this present bout of insomnia was resolved, would the asylum be permitted to fall into such disrepair once more and if so, could anything be done to prevent it? He could not afford to squander what little time was available on such doubts, however, and instead continued onwards, into the old boiler room at the dead and forgotten heart of the hospital complex.

There were memories here the phantom would not countenance, refused to even consider as they would not tally with his desired view of an orderly hospital past- but the ghost was struck by the unmistakeable conclusion that he had unearthed the source of this present disturbance. Suddenly the charred and blackened visage of the intruding apparition actually made some manner of sense… albeit one that Hiram had no particular intention of delving into too closely. Destroy the hospital boiler… and perhaps he could be rid of the trespasser as well.

It was getting dark, Hiram reminded himself, and the afternoon would soon be at an end. No doubt Einhart would have gathered the papers he had requested and, in return, he would uphold his end of the bargain and offer the head doctor the protection he had been promised. He would pass on what he had discovered here and, come morning, Doctor Einhart could send a team to dismantle the boiler, while the phantom himself stood guard to ensure their efforts were not disrupted. The disturbance would end and the asylum could be restored to the peace Hiram demanded of it.

OOC: Hiram’s going to be returning to stand guard over Einhart, who should hopefully have gathered the files he was asked to. Unless they’re disturbed, Hiram will just continue reading over Einhart’s shoulder until he signs out, at which point he’ll escort the doctor out until they reach his car.

Also, would you mind making another Ghost Speech roll for me?

William sighed as he realized they were talking about him. Sure, he liked the idea of actually getting to do something instead of just stand around and listen to the two overly-courteous men try to gain an edge on each other, but he was nervous about what task the oldie would give him. He wasn't sure he'd go back to his own people after beating Richard, but he wanted that to be his choice. He wouldn't just allow himself to be disowned by his own people. He'd already committed two murders since his arrival in town, he wanted to keep them to a bare minimum.

He looked menacingly at Ren, who seemed amused by the task he was about to be given. He then looked back at Salomon.

"Very well. What do you want me to do?"

Ghost
Longchester Hospital for the Insane
As Hiram stepped up to Einhart’s office, unseen and unheard, Einhart was at that very moment greeting a man who had just come in. The unknown man looked like a priest, with a silvery cross hanging around his neck. He was well bearded and silvery grey hair was starting to show.

“I am glad you could make it on zuch a short notize, Vater Winters,” Einhart said as he shook the preacher’s hand.
“I came as soon as I could,” the preacher said, “you were lucky you caught me while I was visiting. So, you say are having some trouble with a poltergeist?”
“Ja,” Einhart said, “a demon that is messing vith my head, and vants me to reveal to him the secrets of my patients.”
“I am glad to see you have resisted his influence. I felt his pain and anger as soon as I walked in. This ghost has power.”
“I vill not let him destroy this asylum.”
“Do not worry, my son. Once the exorcism is completed, he will rest in piece and bother you no more.”
“There vill be no rest vhere he is going, I hope.”

---

Vampire & Werewolf
Longchester Library
Salomon smiled. “It is a simple matter,” he said. “There is this fellow who is targeting my domain. He wants to make it his and is pressuring me to leave the library.” He signalled another ghoul to come closer. It was not the same ghoul as the one who had brought them in, but a completely different one. A fragile looking woman. Salomon whispered something to her and and she was off her way again.

“This man is a Carthian,” he continued, “a neonate with arrogance. He stays in Old Longchester and, although he is not heavily guarded, he keeps two ghouls near him at almost all times. I want assurance that he will not bother me again.” The ghoul servant came back, holding two bottles and an envelope.

“The man’s address is in this envelope,” Salomon said as he took the envelope and signaled the ghoul to put the bottles on the table. Shortly after, another ghoul came with three glasses. “I don’t assume that you would like any red wine, mister Majere,” he said again, “but I do believe you will find this refreshing bottle of a young virgin most enjoyable. As for your friend, I always have a bottle of red wine just in case.”

---

Mage
Ryozo’s Sanctum
“There isn’t much we know about her,” Ryozo said disappointed in his own incompetence. “She would have to be around sixteen years old and she just so happens to be female. Other than that, we have nothing.”

“The thing about the key,” Daiki added, “is that whoever it becomes is chosen completely randomly. As much as we like to control it, the key is a force that choses its host by itself. We have no saying in it. When the key leaves its last host it targets a newborn child to be its next host. That is pretty much everything we know about the key and the host.”

Ryozo sighed. “There is more that we know,” he said as to correct what Daiki had just said. “The girl will have some power that comes with the key. She is able to see things others are not able to. Exactly what it is that she sees is arguable among us, but we do know she should be able to recognize the Awakened on sight. The key allows her to see things that should not be seen, and to understand the impossible. Some of us believe that the key awakens its host, but she won’t be able to use any sort of magic.”

“Other than that,” Daiki said, “you are closer to know who the girl is than we are. We have never seen her and we know nothing of her name. At least you know what she looks like.”

William shrugged and took the glass offered to him. Wine wasn't about to be impolite to the old man. He was rather satisfied, though. One Vamp and two ghouls didn't sound like trouble. He'd been expecting something much worse. Not to mention all the possible ideas about how to fight the old man that had been running through his head.

He was getting rather sick of Ren doing all the talking, especially since the discussion was now around William, and decided to get a word in first.

"Sure, no problem", he said as confidently as he could. It was hard to be confident under the oldie's icy glare. "Just tell me where to find the guy and he'll be out of your hair in no time".

Ren accepted the crimson glass without even glancing at it, never taking his eyes of the old man although he did give him a slight nod of gratitude.

"You are going to give us a priceless book in return for us taking care of one little neonate and a couple of ghouls..?"

Ren asked without expecting an answer, smiling a cold hollow smile at the old man, ignoring Williams words even though he had the courtesy to not interrupt him as he spoke. He felt wonderful, it was at times like this that he felt most at home and there was something exhilarating about trading words with a vampire that could probably end your life in a second like this.

"Aren't you insulting my intelligence now Alder Salomon? You could deal with a silly little insect like that without any trouble what so ever. Whats the catch?"

He asked, still smiling with his thin lips as he took a small sip of the blood, letting it flow through his mouth, savoring the divine tingle and taste it brought. He had never liked stored blood, but a virgin was good no matter how she was served.

Piers wondered at how they could possibly find a girl that age in a city this big with just a face really.
“All I have is her face and this is a big city we will need more then that to find her. I have a feeling that you wouldn’t meantion that I was the only one to have really seen her if you didn’t have a idea of a way so lets hear it.”
He waited for their response hoping that he was right that they had more of a way other wise they wouldn’t really have much of a chance at finding her it was a big city. He knew if there wasn’t a way they would need some outside help.

As Hiram glided through the thin, plywood door into the Head Doctor’s office and took in the scene there something within the long-dead psychologist’s mind snapped. He had struck a bargain with Einhart, been willing to squander his own time and energies to preserve the wretch’s repugnant little life, and this was how he had been repaid? With some effort the spectre fought back his immediate, irrational impulse to simply jump on the man and feed- gnawing away at the German doctor until every last trace of life and enemy had been drawn from his withered frame and he collapsed lifeless to the floor. Rest assured, Einhart would be made to suffer for his crimes and, if the spectre had any say in the matter his death would not be an easy one, but now was not the moment… Hiram had a better use for him first.

Fastening tightly on the German doctor’s mind, the ghost’s ethereal mass crawled in, unseen, through the man’s ears, mouth and nostrils. If this unknown clergyman did indeed possess some power over the dead then perhaps the ghost could turn it to his own advantage. If he was a fraud then there was nothing to be lost but the immediate satisfaction to be wrung from Einhart’s death. In either case, Hiram was determined to make the attempt.

“Father, let’s talk,” the ghost began, his voice frank and slightly deferential, choosing his words carefully. He leaned back in the chair slightly, spreading Einhart’s hands wide in supplication, careful not to make any potentially threatening body-movement toward the priest. “Please, hear me out, this will only take a moment.”

“I believe you must already know something of who I am, let me set the matter straight. I used to practice here, nearly a century ago now I believe. Perhaps I made a few mistakes over the years,” the phantom forced a tight smile, he’d done a great deal worse that that. “Believe me, this certainly isn’t the afterlife I would have hoped for,” that much was certainly true. “But please try to understand- I’ve done everything in my power to make the best of the situation presented to me.”

“When Doctor Einhart first arrived- on his first night in this position,” a note of very real indignation crept into the spirit’s voice, “he tried to drug and rape a girl in the hospital’s care. I intervened to stop him. I could have killed him, I could have done him some serious bodily harm- but I didn’t. All I did was to offer him a warning and ensure that the patient was not dishonoured. Why? Because I believe that everyone deserves a chance at redemption. Now, if you don’t believe me, and I’m not sure I can think of any particular reason why you should, then I can give you the patient’s name and ward number so you can verify my story for yourself.”

“Secondly, I must stress that I am by no means the only ghost in this building, and that none of the other occupants share my inhibitions regarding the taking of human life. Again, I do what I can to keep the peace. If I am not here, and the others are permitted to run rampant… then people here will die. I’d prefer not to have their deaths on my conscience.”

“Please don’t misunderstand me. If you can truly offer me peace then I would be most sincerely grateful to you for that assistance. If you really do mean to free the souls trapped within this place, however, there is a great deal I could do to assist you in that endeavour first. When I do finally pass on, I’d like the comfort of knowing that my patients and staff will no longer be in any immediate danger.”

Ghost
Longchester Hospital for the Insane
The priest looked somewhat surprised at Doctor Einhart, who was now possessed by Hiram. After Hiram had said what he needed to say, the priest closed his mouth and took a deep breath.
“Do you think of me as a fool, doctor?” he said with a serious tone in his voice. “Do you think you can mock me? That I came all the way to Longchester to be mocked? I am a professional exorcist, and I will not be made a fool of.” He stood up to emphasis his words as he took a copy of the Bible in his hand. “I believe that your behavior shows that you are not fit to be in your position. Seriously, if you had seen the exorcist you could at least try to act like you were possessed by a malevolent spirit.” He walked towards the door quite angrily.
“Mark my words, doctor Einhart,” he said as he was about to open the door, “there is something in this building that you should be afraid of, but I will make sure that you will not have to worry about it as I will send a letter to your superiors asking for your immediate resign from this hospital. Good bye.”

As he opened the door, a figure met his gaze from the hallway. A dark figure with burnt skin as dark as coal, and a smile as vile as the devil’s. The priest did not get a chance to scream as the Good Doctor thrust a scalpel deep into his neck. The priest fell down on the floor with blood gushing from the nasty wound where the Good Doctor had stabbed him.

“Laugh or cry, doctor Einhart,” the Good Doctor said with his unearthly voice, “your time is up.” At that very moment, the sun sat down.

---

Vampire & Werewolf
Longchester Library
“The catch?” Salomon said with a grin on his face as Ren asked his question. “The catch is that you may not ask any questions. What information you get is what I want you to have. I told you already, the address is in the envelope. Get the man off my back and you will get the Diary in return.”
Salomon’s grin hid behind an angry face. “The sooner you bring back confirmation that I will receive no more pressure from him, the sooner you can get the Diary of Morpheus. And that is what you want. You don’t want to know why you have to do it, and you don’t want to know why I don’t do this personally. What you want is the Diary and that is what you get once your work is done, no sooner.”
Salomon finished his glass. “And for your information, mister Majere, I will insult your intelligence if I am in the mood to do so. I recommend that you remember your place and do not talk down to me again.”

---

Mage
Ryozo’s Sanctum
Daiki smiled. “I think you are overestimating Longchester, Piers,” he said. “This can hardly be called a city and it is not that big. To tell you the truth, we have no way of finding her. The only thing we know is what we have already told you.”
“We know she is no older than 16,” Ryozo said. “We can also assume that she may have visited a doctor concerning insomnia. The last two did have problem with sleeping due to the Beast invading their dreams. If this has been going on for some time, she may have been put in a mental institute in the last couple of months. Perhaps she has been there longer, perhaps she isn’t even there yet.”
“There is no way of pinpointing her exact location,” Daiki said. “The only ideas we have are gathered through mundane means. Looking at what we know and putting the pieces together.”

Frustrated as he was to be treated like a damn neonate by the elder in front of him Ren hid it perfectly, answering him with a slight smile and the tiniest of bows

"I meant no disrespect Alder Salomon, consider those vermin of yours.. gone.."

He said as he raised his head and turned to leave. Normally he wouldn't act quite as humble as he had been this night but he really needed that book.

"Come on William, we have a social call to make"

Ren said happily, almost as if he looked forward to the prospect of violence. Which of course he did, but the main reason for his joy was the fact that the meeting had gone way better then he had ever even dreamed off. They had gotten their ticket to the price, and he was fairly sure that he had gained some slight credit in Salomon's mind weither he himself knew it or not.

Hiram had to fight back a laugh. It may not have been quite the reaction he’d been hoping for but, nonetheless, the hospital would be free of another nuisance and his existence- for the moment at least- appeared secure. Suddenly vindictive, the threat of immediate exorcism lifted from his mind, the spectre’s attention turned back to Einhart. He deserved to be punished- exterminated even- for the breach of faith, Hiram rationalised, could even be said to have brought it upon himself by pursuing such an obviously imprudent course of action. And much as it might grieve him, a morbid smile spread across the spectre’s face as Father Winters turned away, he would have little choice save to oblige. The hospital most certainly would not afford a Head Doctor with such grievous character failings. And Hiram was thoroughly going to enjoy breaking every bone in the little bastard’s body.

***

The door swung open, and as the priest swept through the ghost scarcely had time for a shout of alarm and indignation before Winters collapsed and crumpled, bleeding profusely, in the doorway. In the half-light beyond him floated a familiar intruder, a crazed, fire-blackened apparition still parroting the white-coated garb of a doctor.

“Laugh or cry, doctor Einhart,” the phantom hissed, the bloody scalpel still clutched in one hand as it glided forward, “your time is up.”
“Einhart,” Hiram snarled, loudly enough for Father Winters to hear, if he were indeed still capable of hearing. “Either you’re going to tend to that man’s wound or I’ll break every bone in your body.” His form, a pale and smoky mass, was already flooding from the doctor’s mouth, nose and ears and, abandoning any last pretence at restraint the ghost flung himself bodily at the intruder with an eerie, wordless keening cry. Perhaps there really could be a time for second chances, the ghost speculated, or perhaps he was merely jealous of a trespasser disturbing the order he had laboured a lifetime and more to build. Then there was no further time for thought as Hiram fought and tore at his opponent, not as a man but rather as a formless, vengeful spirit, clawing, tearing and biting at his opponent seeking to consume the intruder outright or drive it from his sanctum.

OOC: Hiram will make a simple attack against the Good Doctor using the rules presented in the Ghost section of the core rules. (Power + Finesse = his opponent’s Defence). He’ll be dealing Bashing damage.

William watched Ren's humility towards the elder and was rather amused. Already his mind was beginning to plan out how he would fight his three targets. He didn't expect much help from his skinny comrade. Well, only time would tell how this would end. But he sure hoped their opponents could be lured somewhere where they weren't on home ground.

While William was lost in though, Ren turned to leave. Hearing his name mentioned snapped William out of his thoughts. With a hasty copy of Ren's etiquette, bowing a little awkwardly, he turned to follow.

This was gonna be one hell of a night

Ghost
Longchester Hospital for the Insane
Einhart shuddered as Hiram left his body. For a second he was completely disoriented, but as soon as he managed to understand what was going on he hastened to the opposite corner of the office from the fallen priest. It was apparent that this man was all talk and no action.

Hiram attacked this intruder but the Good Doctor slipped from his attacks. The intruder shrieked in rage from this disrespect, a shriek that could be mistaken for an inhuman laughter. The Good Doctors attacks were themselves of little use, but he swung his scalpel like a madman. Einhart screamed in fright at this sight, and remained in his huddled position down in the corner away from the door.

---

Vampire & Werewolf
Old Longchester
As Ren and William left Salomon’s personal sanctuary, the last thing they saw was Salomon’s smile of satisfaction. As they entered Ren’s car, Twitch was ready to drive them away to their mission.

A street in Old Longchester was called Loftstreet. There were several stories why the street was called that, but in truth nobody really knew. What was known about this street was that throughout history, many great and terrible things took place there. Very few knew why, or even bothered thinking about a reason, why these things took place. Of course, most of the undead citizens knew that several of the events were related to vampire activity, most notably a massive shootout between a radical faction within the Carthian Movement and an equally radical faction within the Invictus. Of course, no bodies were found by the mortal police and both factions were eradicated by the Carthian Movement and the Invictus. It was only after the event that the Prince and the rest of the Carthians tightened their rule over Longchester.

Of course, none of that historical crap really mattered to either Ren or William at the moment. The target they were after lived in this very street, not far from the only clubbing street in Old Longchester. Knowing that, one could easily come to the conclusion that this neonate had some sort of connections.
The car stopped just outside the address Salomon had given the pair. Third floor, the note said in Salomon’s fine handwriting. The house looked old, over a century old, with wooden planks nailed over every window from top floor to bottom. Not a hint of light could be seen from the outside and the front door seemed utterly defenseless.

Lost in a maelstrom of long pent-up anger Hiram clawed and tore again at the intruder with broken nails, encrusted with grave dirt. “This is a hospital!” the ghost roared, oblivious to the fact that none but himself and possibly the offending spirit could hear his indignant exclamation.

The irony of the situation, that he should be exerting himself so and risking a final death for no better reason than to protect a man he himself had already marked out for destruction, was lost on the phantom. In truth he was barely thinking at all, consumed instead with an all-subsuming fury and oblivious to all but the need to demolish the spectre trespassing on his domain. A tempest of unbridled indignation was running through the phantom’s mind, fuelled by adrenaline and a finally unhindered lust for the suffering of others. This was a hospital, the dead psychologist raged, a place of healing which he had laboured to keep safe for a lifetime and more- and it was his own private playground to boot. He would not permit, could not afford to tolerate, this obviously unhinged trespasser running amok over it, and if he could not destroy the intruder outright then he would drive it from his domain.

OOC: Hiram will just keep attacking the spirit.

Ren looked up at his big friend and gave him a slight grin as they stepped out of the car. Now, Ren didn't actively seek out chances to inflict pain and cause wanton destruction, such an act would be beyond silly and sadly even after a hundred years of life he still couldn't get rid of his silly conscience that came into play whenever he laid a hand on someone who didn't really deserve it. But even so he couldn't help but do so occasionally, the rush, the joy, the release of tension and frustration could only be compared too satisfying his unholy hunger. And it had been a very long time since he had gotten a release, and the small whispers in the back of his head that usually where as silent and easy to ignore as black smoke drifting through the air had become like the wail of a banshee, screaming for release, its dark laughter echoing through his skull.

"Well now my big friend, very soon it will be time for you to show your merit, if you have a weapon, keep it at hand but out of sight, I'm going to see if i can't make this whole thing a bit.. Easier for us.."

Ren said with a sly grin on his face as he walked up to the large door, signaling Twitch to stay in the car as he did. This night too many things would be seen that could disturb his already peculiar mind.

"Lets hope this Carthian Bug isn't as much of a pain as Salomon makes him out to be.."

Ren whispered to himself as knocked three times on the door as hard as he could, listening to the sound echo through the old house.

(Note, the whispers and screams he is talking about aren't exactly whispers and screams, he is not scitzo, he does not hear voices or phanthom sounds. Its just how he thinks of his, desires and.. Needs.. He is after all rather... Poetic)