Assamite

Quick glimpse – MbN – Autumn of 2003

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He remained seated in the maroon Louis XII chair, long after his most recent guest had departed, shadows swirling around him. Just two nights ago, he had returned to his natural form, no longer needing to share the guise of his now returned pack mate. Blood sweat began to bead upon his brow as he contemplated whether the shedding of his vicissitude created masque was related to the amaranth that he now clutched. “Impossible! Now calm yourself.” he thought.  In response to his attempts to settle his anxiety, the shadows slowed their movements about his seated form. His mind replayed the encounter, “She was announced as a messenger from Clan Assamite, and dressed as such. White formal robes, no doubt to show her state as a non-combatant. Onyx skin, marking her as older than himself. A slight accent to her French, maybe Turkish. The bow was properly executed, as were the greetings. Now her name…” This was where his mind drew a blank. As a well versed master of subterfuge, the inability to recall her name was what disturbed Tobias the most. Even more than the flower in his hand.

 

Quick glimpse – MbN – August of 2003

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I skipped last night as I was feeling under the weather, but I’m back at it tonight with something special!

The following was translated from Latin:

Honoured Azrael,

As instructed I write to you, what I hope, is a short but satisfactory report. As was reported earlier, there are issues with your new training column but I would expect no less given the speed at which they are being pushed. Ricardo, while a fine instructor normally, is a poor choice and is feigning disinterest in this assignment. I caution that he is looking for any excuse to take the Archbishop’s childe out of the equation in retribution for past slights. I base this upon their interaction at the Palla Grande of 1759, and their further interaction at the Festivo dello Estinto in Mexico in 2001, when Ricardo’s childe disappeared.

I am able to recommend that further testing of this column should be undertaken, preferably where the dogs of Vienna can be used as a target. I feel that one of the candidates may have an innate resistance to their inferior hermetic arts. I regretfully, can not report further at this time as I respectfully wish to protest the presence of Samson during my investigation. His near immediate presence posed an unnecessary distraction upon the turncoat. Therefore I was unable to confirm a discreet test of blood.

I remain your agent, S

Quick glimpse – MbN – A Garden, near Rennes-le-Château, 1828

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In barely hushed tones, a burly man adorned with the heavy golden braids of an British Officer spoke to the innocent young woman at his side “I never did see the point of a Kindred wedding. Frankly, where is the precedent? If all of the ‘descended from Caine’ hogwash was true, it isn’t as if HE married. Why in my time, if a relationship of convince lasted more than a decade, it was a cause for scandal!”

The young woman blushed at the the General’s words. “Lord Collinsworth, forgive me, but is this not a time for celebration?” The officer smiled slyly, gently, but appropriately rebuked. “Yes, yes, of course Lucinde. I am acting as a poor tutor. Please do not think that I would do your Sire a disservice. Let us focus on the nuptials.” With this said, both guests turned their attention to the wedding party and the rest of the guests spread throughout the garden. The fashion of the female guests seemed to be inspired by the earlier dress of the ancient Greeks, fused with the late regency period. The men on the other hand, wore a mis-mash of styles, with the only theme being the extravagance of their attire.

“Lord Collinworth, if I may ask, why are we here? Do you know…” her words were cut short by both the sound of the concealed Harpist and the General’s caution “Hush girl, it’s about to begin.” With all attention now turning to the trio of figures beneath the garden’s main arbour, it was easy to see the skeletal man clad in the robes of a Cardinal. As he raised both arms into the air, a gesture to maintain attention, the Cardinal spoke in courtly french “Lords and Ladies….Your attention. We gather here, for this joyous night, so that two may declare their love before you all!”

The Cardinal stepped back, and guided each of the happy, soon to be wed, couple forward for the guests to see. “I present the suitor, Master Warlock, Nicolai Antonescu, and the Honourable Mademoiselle Alicia …” The rapport of the first musket shot rang loudly enough to silence everyone within the garden. The second, was mistaken for an echo of the first, having happened so fast. Both shots having found their mark, the Bride dropped to the ground, a headless and rapidly ageing husk. A sign that she had not been turned so long ago.

Quick glimpse – MbN – Buffalo, February of 1994

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Another snippet from the in-game past of our Montreal by Night game.

Buffalo

Just outside of Buffalo; Within the office of a chard auto mechanic’s shop, two hours after sunset.
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As her looked about the scene, the Nosferatu known as Rabbit spoke to his hunched back minion, “Tell the Prince that the cleaners should arrive shortly.” As his childer began to leave, so as to deliver the message, something caught Rabbit’s critical. “Wait!” Rabbit, living up to his name, hopped over to a corner of the burnt out room in which he and his childer stood. Crouching down, his knees tucked next to his ears, much like his name sake, he wiggled his nose and sniffed the air. “Phosphorus” he declared as he slide the half melted shotgun shell from beneath the chard Ottoman. “That would explain the fire.” He turned the shell in his hand, and his pallor faded further than his ‘condition’ normally allowed. “It was Sabbat, likely a war party. They used Dragonsbreath. I’d guess, on the whole Coterie. They hit right after sunset.” Rabbit stood and handed the partially melted shell to his childre. As his hunchbacked childer ambled over to his sire, and reached for the shell, Rabbit grabbed his hand and held it tightly. “Lladislas is bound to have a bee in his bonnet over this, so tell him from a distance.”

At the same time, just outside of Erie, Pennsylvania, in a white panelled van
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From the rear of the van, another Nosferatu, this one very different spoke with confidence, “That’s got to be the easiest hit I’ve ever done. Gypsy, how about you let me drive next time we stop for gas?” From the passenger seat, a leather clad woman sighed very loudly “Not this again… Snake you don’t even know how to drive! Seriously, how the hell do you get into the Hand without knowing how to drive?” Snake snorted, “Come into the back Incense, and I’ll show you what I can do.. oh the things that…” The driver cut Snake off before he could finish his faux come-on, her voice was quiet and slightly accented “The tank is full, we shall not be stopping unless needed. Since I doubt that they are fools, they would have found the remains by now. If I forgot to say it before, you both did well.” A pregnant silence of shock filled the van for a full mile before Snake spoke again, “Do you know why they wanted us to grab this one” as he drove his boot into the stomach of the staked kindred next to him “Or is that confidential?”