The motto of this update is:
in case my idea falls horribly flat on its face
Chapter Four
‘One moment’ you say, raising your hand. ‘I believe there is no need to bore Guillermo with the details he already knows.’
‘Oh, to the contrary’ the other Abyss Mystic meets your gaze defiantly. ‘I’m most curious of the ideas you doubtlessly thought of by now.
‘I’m afraid I will have to ask you to leave’ you slowly begin to exert your control over the surrounding shadows. Burning vitae races through your veins. The shadows grow larger, seemingly reaching for Vidal. ‘The Bishop saw fit to charge me and Ductus Jester with this mission. He never mentioned your involvement, and I’m forced to assume he never intended you to be involved.’
The Spaniard finally notices the shadows closing in on him, and shifts uncomfortably. He recovers quickly, however, and a smug grin returns to his face. At the same time you find it harder to prod the shadows onward. He must be resisting. You make nothing of it. You are well nourished and have vitae to spare. Knowing this, you sacrifice even more to command the Darkness. The Bloody Jester and his pack priest take a few steps back, as the first shadowy tentacle visibly springs to life.
‘Is that a way to treat a fellow clanmate?’ Vidal protests, still suspiciously smug. ‘But let it be your way.’
Another shadowy tentacle manifests at these words, this one not under your control. While yours almost managed to grip Vidal’s ankle, you halt the move and now focus on deflecting the attack he launched at your throat. The Joker-Jester begins to loudly cheer both of you, and you register an amused smile on Sven’s face.
Not to be denied your victory, you lunge towards Vidal. You launch a distracting blow towards his jaw, backing it with all of your unnatural might. Though the other Keeper manages to dodge, his resulting lack of concentration is all you needed. The shadows raise to your command once more. Burning vitae is almost as delightful as draining it. Obedient tentacles of Darkness firmly grip Vidal’s arms and another one reaches for his throat.
‘Out you go!’ you snarl. By now Karl arrived from the outside, drawn by the racket. Quite the show, you think. Good. Let them watch. Let all of them watch and learn not to fuck with you.
‘You really want me gone, don’t you?’ Vidal laughs, before he can be silenced. ‘Pray tell me, though, were would you have me leave? As Ductus Jester noted, dawn is near. Would you really exile a fellow Sabbat into the scorching rays of the Sun, Richard?’
Shite!, you think. The tentacle stops immediately. Consumed by your hatred of Vidal, you forgot the obvious. Whether you like it or not, the two of you are stuck here with the Bloody Jester’s Pack till the next dusk. You can’t conceivably get rid of him without actually killing him. Though the thought had crossed your mind, you know the Bishop would be most displeased. But maybe you could just stake the Spaniard? Or maybe… ahh, shite! He got you this time.
‘Maybe I could dig you a grave’ you hiss contemptuously, dismissing the tentacles.
At your command the shadows recede, releasing the other Abyss Mystic. Dusting his clothes, Vidal shoots an ‘I told you’ glance at the Bloody Jester. The Mmalkavian merely chuckles and shrugs, his eyes darting between you and your opponent.
‘Now, now, Prelate Mmorris’ the Jester says. You think you can hear a slight reproach in his voice. ‘As fun as
that would be, dawn is definitely too close now!’
‘But all in all, the fight was cool’ laughs Karl.
‘Indeed’ chimes in the pack priest. ‘A much more entertaining ending to the night, than discussing the local Bishop’s plans, right boss?’
‘All right, all right, you two convinced me’ the Bloody Jester gives in. He approaches and pats you candidly on the shoulder. ‘A good show, my good Prelate. Now, I think, I’ll retire for the day.’
***
The whole pack gathers in the building’s basement. Harley turns out to be, true to her name, a fitting pair for the Joker-Jester, with alabaster skin and skin-tight outfit complete with jingling bells. The Bloody Jester introduces her as his childe. Bernarde’s a punk with more metal shit in his face than seems healthy or reasonable. Mike, his sire, is the last to arrive. Another punk, though not as stereotypical as Bernarde. You hazard a guess that the childe is desperately trying to emulate his sire here.
Sullenly, you unroll your sleeping bag in the corner opposite to the one chosen by Vidal. As you close your eyes awaiting the daytime torpor, you contemplate the coming night. You will obviously have to outline the Bishop’s plan by then, hopefully getting rid of Vidal first. But what next?
Will you:
A) Hunt a kine down with the pack. Its blood will serve to wash away your recent blunder with Vidal.
B) Bond with the pack by performing a Vaulderie.
C) The moon is full. You should take the pack for a ride through lupine turf.
D) Organise a training exercise. You must know what the pack’s made of.
E) Do something that never crossed my mind.