October 31, 2018
Anthony's eyes snapped open as he found himself once more in Lilah Brook's trophy room. He turned, seeing at his back the shattered Castaneda Mirror. At that mirror was Lilah herself, inspecting the shattered surface.
"Undamaged. Good. Good." She muttered.
"A feat of Thaumaturgy. You're welcome, by the way." Lilah said, smoothing her fingers along the lines in the broken glass.
"What...what about the others?" Anthony asked.
"If they're smart and resourceful, they got out." Lilah said, still not looking at him. "We have a lot of work to do."
"I. . .I don't understand." Anthony said. "The others-"
"There are bigger problems here than that right now." Lilah said. When she saw the apprentice looking more stunned, she turned to him with narrowed eyes. "So long as the Baali are active, so long as they are out doing things like that, whether or not the others have survived won't matter. Given that they were bold enough to do this, we have weeks...maybe just a few nights before it's gone. The Tremere, the Camarilla, maybe even the Masquerade." She turned, shoes clacking against the stone floor as she met his eyes. "Do you understand, Apprentice? If we don't act, it's all gone."
"I...I understand, Regent. Of course." Anthony said, nodding. "What's our next move?"
"Your next move, I think, will be in letting your Prince in on just what it is you plan to do in her city." The voice of none other than Wren Blanchard startled both the Tremere, who turned to see her in the doorway.
"H-How...how did yo-?" Lilah looked actually, legitimately surprised for the second time in ages. The first time, of course, being the explosion they'd just escaped from.
"I'm your Prince. You have no secrets from me." Wren, by comparison, had a completely blank expression. "You there...Wallace, isn't it?"
"Yes, your Grace." Anthony nodded, realizing he had been spoken to.
"You are dismissed. Your Regent and I have much to discuss." Wren said.
"Yes, your Grace." Anthony bowed his head respectfully and made his departure out of the doorway that Wren had somehow managed to open. It closed behind him, Anthony feeling no small amount of relief when it had done so. It was getting late, he had the thought to call and check on the rest of his coterie. For the moment, however, he simply put his phone away. Perhaps the Primogen was right and they had only nights before them, but they had at least a few more left...
"Are you serious?"
"I am deathly serious, Miss Croft." Fabian White said, seated across from her at the table. "With your expertise, I believe this could work to our mutual benefit."
"You're asking me to blood bond an elder." Marion said. "Not only that, an elder who by all rights is dead."
"Well, we are all dead in the strictest sense, Miss Croft."
"Oh, don't even try to give me that." The Tremere scoffed at him.
"Let's say I may possess a certain knowledge of his location and would appreciate...discretion...in this matter."
"I still don't see where this benefits me."
"The blood of an elder to study and an artifact of substantial Thaumaturgical power."
". . .what sort of artifact?"
"If I recall correctly from the intelligence I've gathered, a bronze key that's covered in those symbols." Fabian said. He saw the realization flash in her eyes.
"Very well, I agree." Marion said.
"Good. A bargain is a bargain." Fabian said, extending a hand to her to shake and seal the deal.
November 1, 2018
The people of Seattle did as they did during the day. They got up, kissed their spouses and their children goodbye before going to work. They lived, they laughed, they loved...all under the heat of the beating sun. The day was a world made for them, a world that their kind knew. Their domain.
But the sun would fall in the sky, dipping down lower and lower toward the horizon. When the sun had finally disappeared and the night had come, it was no longer the domain of those people. Those people who lived under the sun. It belonged to the Kindred.
One such Kindred, Sybil Langtry, rose from her slumber. Her vitae sloshed about inside her dead veins sluggishly, the pale imitation of living energizing every fiber of her being. She was hungry, and would need to feed very soon. For the moment, the condition was manageable. She turned on the television, seeing the news report about an explosion of a condemned apartment building last night. Apparently it was being chalked up to a faulty fireworks display. Another covering up for the Masquerade? No real way to know. Either way, not her monkey, not her circus. She turned it off and went to shower before getting into her outfit for the night. It was an off-night, to be sure, but a nice button down and jeans did well. Harriet over her shoulders did even better.
Sybil picked up her cell phone. "Go for Nora Charles."
". . .Sybil. Texting you an address. Be there. Half an hour." She was honestly surprised to hear Ben's voice, even if it was his ring tone. He then hung up with no explanation. The Malkavian blinked a few times as her phone buzzed, a text message detailing an address - the address of the Red Rooster Diner in Ben's domain.
"Mmmkay, sure. This seems legit. I'll grab onto this hook and see where the string goes." Sybil said, snatching her keys up out of the bowl by the door.
"You have got to be kidding me!"
"I'm afraid not." Ben said, gesturing to the man seated across from him. They were in the Red Rooster, which had been cleared out early for the night. Owning the property tended to help with that. Sybil looked unamused, as did Anthony. Grace, on the other hand, just looked confused.
"Wait, so you're-"
"Antonio Oliviera, Father of the Church of the Yawning Void." The old Lasombra extended a hand, grasping one of Grace's. "And it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Penderghast."
"Oh, my!" Grace couldn't blush, but she would have as the man kissed the back of her hand.
"No, seriously. What exactly is happening?" Sybil asked. "As I recall, he tried to kill us last time we met."
"As I recall, you shot me and I reacted." Oliviera said, shooting the Malkavian a look.
"You did what?" Grace looked incredulously toward Sybil.
"Regardless, what is past is past." Oliviera said. "And this matter is too important to not extend a hand concerning."
"Oh, really?" Sybil asked. "If you're wanting us to leave some roses out for Croft, you can-"
"That...is not it." Oliviera said. "I'm afraid this extends far beyond my passions. Well, at least my passions for my beloved."
"Get to the point. Please." Ben said, staring blankly at the man.
"Yes, of course." Oliviera said, pausing for a moment before continuing. "People have been leaving my church. In great numbers."
"So what?" Anthony asked, giving a snort. "They chose a different brand of religion and hurt your feelings?"
"It's not quite as simple as that." Oliviera said, shaking his head. "They're leaving to go to somewhere else, specifically. Word on the street is that others are doing the same, Kine and Kindred alike. In very big numbers." His eyes focused in particular on Anthony. "From many clans." Anthony could not help but wonder what that was about.
"That's...a Masquerade breach waiting to happen." Ben commented.
"Quite correct." Oliviera said.
"How do we know the Kindred aren't just there looking for a snack?" Sybil asked. "I mean, prayer houses aren't exactly the worst racks I can think of."
"Because some of them aren't coming back." Oliviera said. "Some of them that are coming back are...different."
"Where exactly do we come in?" Ben asked.
"I want to know what's going on there. I want you to investigate. That's what you do, isn't it?" Oliviera said.
"Technically, we cause a lot of ruckus and barely get away with it." Sybil said. "Honestly, when we ran into you, I'm surprised we didn't bust the Masquerade into a million pieces with-"
"We'll look into it." Ben said. "Do you have the address?"
"I do." Oliviera nodded, sliding a napkin with the address scribbled onto the paper over to the Gangrel. Ben picked it up, examining it.
"Alright." Ben said.
"Very good." Oliviera said, standing from his seat in the booth. "Please understand, I, too, wish to preserve the Masquerade and I-"
"And you are leaving." Ben said. "Now."
". . .right." Oliviera said, giving a nod to those in attendance before turning and leaving through the glass door.
". . .you did what?" Grace once more rounded on Sybil.
"Don't start." Sybil snapped at her. "Pretty sure this is a trap..."
"Only one way to be sure." Ben said, passing the napkin toward Sybil. The Malkavian sighed and took the napkin.
"Somebody owes me a drink for this..." Sybil said, channeling the power of her blood. To the others, Sybil's eyes seemed to roll back into her head. To Sybil, she was granted a vision: that damned chessboard again. Her focus seemed to now be the three red kings, still without their dragon. Pawns seemed to be leaving a black bishop, moving toward the three kings. The closer they got as they moved across the board to them, they slowly shifted to red.
Sybil came out of the trance state.
"Well?" Ben asked.
"The pieces are moving to the three kings." Sybil said.
"Oh, hell...more cryptic bullshit..." Grace groaned.
"No. Oliviera's telling the truth. I'm pretty sure." Sybil said, shaking her head. "The red kings are recruiting for war."
"War...?" Anthony asked.
"Great." Ben said. "Then we have some scouting out to do. This could go sideways quickly." He got to his feet. "Let's go."
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