Author: Urban Sniper

#Lore24 – Entry #309 – Fantasy Month IV #4 – A Lopsided Bargain

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

As I hung helplessly in the grasp of Lady Armenia, she continued to relentlessly tease my body in a way I had never experienced.  Certainly, Alekos and Ryona had teased me during our rather erotic trysts between his classes, but not like this.  The combination of her mazoku nature and her training as a Yurisayan priestess were, for lack of a better term, maddening.  She knew exactly how and where to touch me to work my body into a mess of heated lust, and exactly how to keep it right there, on the very edge of attaining the pleasures I had soon sought and thought I had lost all cravings for after I had left as Alekos’s tutor. 

I cannot know how long exactly she kept me on edge, but it could have been hours.  She practically turned my mind to jelly during the time, had even seemed to twist my body’s perception of the pain she caused by the pinches and scrapings of her claws into pleasure.  She said little during this time, at least that I can recall, only making a few comments on the pleasureful sounds and physical responses I made in response to her touch which left me feeling great shame at my lack of control.

Once I had been properly edged for this small eternity, had become even hotter and sweatier than I had in the trunk as I hung helplessly in my bindings, she finally began to tell me of the reason she had intercepted me on my way back to the Great Library.  She did perceive some slight from my leaving my tutorship early and felt that I had somehow gone against the bargain originally arranged between the Library and her.  I tried to protest this, but of course, she had yet to remove the gag, so my complaints were quite ineffectual.  She had taken it upon herself, then, to see that the full terms of my service were to be handled in a different way:  I would serve as her historical and archaeological expert on an upcoming expedition to the south-western Wildlands, to help her and her people to study some ruins that were found there, as well as several artifacts that were found within them by an adventuring party who were working to civilize the area.

She said that she had already sent word to Mother regarding this and received a positive response (though I have yet to see such correspondence), and had come to a tentative agreement for an extension of the term should my work prove satisfactory.  And, of course, there would be additional requirements that she would have of me, given how she seemed to think that I had offended her and somehow impugned the honor of her son and her family name.  I personally feel that she was being most overdramatic in this assertion and had blown it up into something much more than it was, but who am I to argue with someone of her station and power?  Who save perhaps the Emperor himself and a handful of nobles would challenge someone of her station?  And over a lowly librarian such as myself? 

I was in quite the mess, to put it mildly, and certainly, I feel, not of my own making. 

But that would not be all, for Armenia then declared that she would continue my own ‘education’ to assist me in future endeavors, to help me learn from my failures (in her mind, I contest) to understand her “dear son’s unique predicament,” as well as expand my knowledge of Yurisaya’s ways.  By this time, somewhere in my pleasure-addled brain, I’m certain that I protested this, though I can’t recall if I actually tried to form words to such effect or simply made lustful noises and wiggled in her grasp.  It has all become something of a blur in my memory, a deficiency of my own mind that I must try to correct.

She finally stopped teasing me for a few moments then, but only so that she could bring over what I would be wearing for the foreseeable future as her “assistant”; I would learn that such a term, when used by a Yurisayan priestesses, or at least, by her, was possessed of much more responsibility than those which were simply academic.  She enacted a magical ritual upon me, tracing a magical rune upon my body with her claw and some mixture she dipped her claw into, forming a magical tattoo just over my pubic mound.  This, she said, would help me to better understand her son’s difficulties in dealing with his own lustful nature.

As I couldn’t see the rune she had inscribed upon me, not that I was able to think overly clearly at the time anyway, I was somewhat worried when I felt the magic take hold, felt my body beginning to transform itself.  I recall moaning into the ball between my lips as the strange sensation of pleasure and arcane energies coursed through me.  I am not sure how long it took to finish, but once it was done, I recalled feeling an unusual weight now resting between my legs, of an unusual throbbing sensation.  I was dumbfounded when I looked down to see a sizeable penis and testes hanging there, standing quite erect, my brain simply unable to process it in the moment.

Armenia then began to stroke my new appendage, filling my body with sensations I had never experienced before.  And yet, like she had done with my natural anatomy, she quickly had me squirming and moaning, on the edge of a climax I would never experience.  I could feel myself dripping, could feel her touch so keenly through this new, sensitive part of my anatomy. 

She further added to my plight by slowly and most erotically piercing my nipples, a mix of pleasure and pain that only added to that which I experienced from my…cock.  Here she attached a pair of stout golden rings, U-shaped, and set with faintly glowing rubies at the bottom of the U.  These, I would shortly discover, would vibrate through some control device she possessed, and would serve to keep me constantly on edge.  She placed a collar about my neck as well, heavy and golden, set with a similar ruby at the neck, which sealed with a click that sounded quite ominous in my ears.  Though this looked more like a richly designed necklace, it was no doubt a collar.

With these accessories done, she teased my new member some more, driving my pleasure-haze right back to that edge, but then announced there was but one more item to complete my ensemble.  Not knowing what it could have been, nor thinking at all clearly at the time, I dazedly watched as she secured a thick, silver ring around the base of my cock and balls, then proceeded to guide a matching silver cage around it, pressing it downward, forcing my erection painfully into the confines of the cage.  With a growing sense of erotically-charged horror, I watched helplessly as the cage met the ring, the metals fusing together and growing tighter around my new anatomy. 

Armenia then squeezed my testes, flicking the cage, sending an agonizing pleasure through my tightly trapped appendage, then patted my cheek, announcing that she had finished.  I would be allowed to “enjoy” my new predicament for a while longer, and then I would be freed of my bonds so that I may clean myself up and don some “appropriate attire”, then rest before we were to set out on our journey on the morrow. 

It would prove to be an arduous and long journey, as I will detail in my next entries, though I would learn much of which I had never intended to learn along the way.

#Lore24 – Entry #308 – Fantasy Month IV #3 – A Slight Against a Priestess, Apparently

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

As previously stated, I know not where I was taken, and by the time we arrived at our destination, I was a sweaty, sore mess inside the confines of the trunk.  I heard not a word of conversation that may have occurred around me, of course, thanks to the hood, and only my internal monologue and pained grunts and moans as the cart bounced along kept me company.  My attempts to surmise my captor had ended after perhaps an hour, for by then I had started to feel my discomfort most keenly in pretty much every part of my body due to the stress of my position and the hot confines of the trunk. 

Once the road upon which we traveled had smoothed out, things became somewhat more bearable, but only slightly, and when we stopped and I felt the chest being lifted, I knew that we had reached our destination at last.  At least, I had certainly wished it to be so; the thought of being transferred to another cart and driven off somewhere else in my state had filled me with dread at the time.  The drakonae carried me for perhaps a few minutes before the chest was placed rather roughly on the ground.  I could feel the rattle of the locks and latches being undone, and then the lid finally opened, a rush of thankfully much cooler air pouring over my hot, sweaty flesh, eliciting some rather relived sounds from my gagged lips.  Might I add that having worn the hood and gag for such an extended period, it had grown quite unpleasant due to my own drool?  The inside of the hood was absolutely soaked, as was my chin and neck where my drool had managed to find a way out.

Their strong, clawed hands lifted me out and set me on an even colder stone floor, and thankfully they released the strap holding me in the hogtie, allowing me some respite, though my joints and limbs were certainly still in some great discomfort.  I realized my relaxation upon the floor was not to last long, though, when I felt them attaching something to the shoulder straps of the armbinder harness.  A few moments later I felt the ratcheting action as chains hauled me upright, adding a new unpleasant element to my bondage.  Once I was fully upright and upon my feet, the chains continued upward a few more inches, leaving me dangling with only my toes able to touch the floor.

I was perhaps left alone for a time then; again, I could sense nothing of my surroundings thanks to the enchanted hood I had been forced into, only the occasional shift in the air flow over my body as I shifted unsteadily and uncomfortably upon my toes.  Once my sweat had dried and my body cooled, I found the surrounding air still somewhat warm, though hardly stifling, aside from the continued heat caused by the hood. 

I was in something of a state of half sleep when I sensed someone near me.  Even though my primary senses were still gone, I could sense the shift in the air as someone moved around me, and the subtle instinct that someone was staring at me was hard to ignore.  I ventured an inquiry, unintelligible as it may have been, but received no immediate response.  Whoever it was circled me, and I got the sense of being prey that was getting stalked by a deft hunter.  Or, perhaps, a worm on a hook would be a better analogy, as I recall squirming quite a bit after several minutes had passed.

Without warning, I suddenly felt hands upon my body, their arms reaching around behind me, tearing my already disheveled and sweat-soaked clothes open.  Sharp fingernails dug into my breasts as the hands grasped them and squeezed, seemingly weighing them before they traced uncomfortably down my sides, giving me the impression of knives running over my flesh.  Soon they groped my thighs, hips, and backside, and it wasn’t long before fingers were finding their way between my legs and my lower lips, again, seemingly testing my flesh, but then in a more teasing manner, those sharp fingernails pressing in a most intimate way.  Once I had started squirming more vigorously, the hands moved on, tracing down my legs all the way to my toes, stopping to test my soles with their nails.  I daresay I’m far more ticklish than I wished I was in that moment.

At long last, the hands left my body, and my mysterious tormentor stepped away for a few moments.  At least, I felt hands working the laces of the hood, drawing them loose, and gratefully I relished the cool air that assailed my head once it was finally removed.  Opening my eyes, I found the chamber lit by candlelight, though I could see little detail of my surroundings beyond their illumination save that it seemed very much a dungeon, though hardly a dank one.  The pungent odor of sweat and leather from my own body was stifled by the scent of perfumed, its strong, powerful scent tickling something of a vague recollection in my mind. 

My captors hands grasped my breasts again, her sharp nails pinching my nipples rather painfully.  I looked down, saw that her skin was a fiery red hue, her nails more akin to claws, and my breath caught in my throat as I fought not to make any sudden movements.  I saw that she wore fine black silk that hugged her forearms.  For a moment, we both remained motionless, then she pressed herself against my back, her body much warmer than my own.  I felt a third touch upon my hips, slipping between my legs, and as I squirmed, I caught sight of her slender tail as it caressed my thigh and teased my nethers.

The mazoku finally spoke then, her voice deeper than women, but smooth and seductive, as is natural for so many of her kind, yet filled with an undeniable commanding presence.  “Angelique Cartacustos…you dare to leave your station as my son’s tutor without even waiting for us to formally meet?  I’m quite offended!”

I shivered and let out a squeaking moan behind the jaw-breaking gag.  It was Alekos’s mother!  That vaguely familiar perfume was suddenly very familiar as I clearly remembered sampling it once during my time at the Kormides residence for one of the parties Alekos had hosted.  I even recalled him saying that it was his mother’s favorite! 

Then what may well have been the most distressing fact about what little I knew of his mother, Armenia, clicked into place, explaining much of my predicament at the time:  she was a priestess of Yurisaya, and a high-ranking one at that!

#Lore24 – Entry #307 – Fantasy Month IV #2 – An Unexpected and Unwelcome Detour

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

As I write this, it has been several days since my previous entry, and I find myself in a peculiar situation, and far removed from the Great Library I had thought to return to.  A most unexpected and unwelcome detour has befallen me, and I now find myself enroute to the far south-western border of the Imperium and a region of the Wildlands that has recently drawn much attention from the Emperor and adventurers alike.  It is a most curious and vexing arrangement that I find myself in…but I suppose I shouldn’t get too far ahead of myself and recount the details of my situation.

I was in the midst of a most relaxed and deep slumber as my carriage left the outskirts of Draconis Magna and had been completely unaware that it had come to a stop soon after my slumber began.  I would not be aware of it until I was suddenly pulled from the carriage and thrown to the ground outside none too gently.  I was surrounded by a group of black-scaled drakonae,* but before I could even begin to inquire what was happening, one secured a jawbreakingly large ball gag harness about my head, and a black leather sack was pulled over it.  I immediately recognized this as a deprivation hood, for as the laces were deftly tightened and secured, I lost all sensations of hearing and sight beyond my own panicked breathing.  The drakonae worked with quick and well-practiced efficiency that led me to ponder the exact nature of their chosen profession, binding my hands first in tight-fitting leather mitts secured by straps around my wrists, and then drawing my arms together behind my back to encase them in a leather sheath that soon had them held uselessly and mercilessly together, only growing tighter as the laces were pulled tight and the straps around my chest secured. 

My legs were likewise sheathed in stout leather binder that was tightened just as cruelly, from my thighs to my ankles, leaving me perhaps only able to hop about.  That was, of course, until they secured a strap to my ankles to the ring at the base of my armbinder, effectively hogtying me, leaving my back arched in what would no doubt grow quite painful soon.  I was thankful for my natural dexterity and limberness, though how long that would avail me, I did not know at the time.

I had rarely been more secure even when I had assisted Regina Houslin with her binding staff or other experiments in restraint. 

Blind and deaf to the world around me, the drakonae’s efficiency continued as they worked together, their clawed hands lifting me up into what I assumed was a cart.  I was quickly proven wrong, however, when I realized that my knees and head were touching against the sides of something much smaller.  With a sudden panic, I realized, when the lid was closed above me (I could tell by the sudden loss of the heat of the sun upon my skin and the vibrations of the latches being closed) that they had placed me inside a chest!  In my furious struggles, I realized that the chest was barely big enough to contain me, and I had quickly built up quite a sweat, the air growing quite warm and thinner, but not enough that once I ceased my struggles that I was any danger of suffocation. 

I know not where they took me at the time, though I do know that riding hogtied in a chest with your limbs severely bound as I was, inside a chest upon a cart, can be a most uncomfortable and unpleasant experience. 

As my more reasonable mind began to take over as my panic subsided, I tried to reason out exactly who would go through the effort of kidnapping me in such a way, who I may have offended or who may stand to gain from my capture.  I had not been deeply involved with the upper crust of Draconis Magna’s wealthiest classes for long, and I could not remember specifically offending anyone, though given the sometimes mercuric nature of some of the nobility, perhaps I had slighted one in some way unbeknownst to me.  Or perhaps it was an enemy of General Kormides, seeking knowledge of his son through me?  Was it someone seeking knowledge of the Great Library for something nefarious?  It had to be someone of some wealth, or perhaps a group of individuals who had come together, for the party of drakonae were well-trained and brutally efficient, no doubt quite used to such activities, and that kind of expertise always came with a high price. 

I would have much time to ponder my situation, though no answers I could come up with would prepare me for the eventual truth I would learn of my abduction, nor would I know quite how to properly deal with the situation I would find myself in.

 

*Regarding the Drakonae:

I had decided a while back that kobolds and drakonae are separate races, and am formalizing that as of now.  Kobolds in my world are the classic fantasy/D&D creatures that are somewhat doglike in appearance.  Drakonae are more akin to the modern interpretations that have them as draconic in nature, with draconic features (scales, tails, claws, teeth, etc), abilities (such as dragon’s breath, waterbreathing, and wings in some cases), and heritage based upon reclaiming the lost glories of their mighty ancestors who long ago vanished.  Any references to “kobolds” in my older entries (both fantasy and sci-fi) that refer to them using draconic breath or breathing underwater, scales, etc, are Drakonae.  I think I’ve only referenced kobolds once (during the “Kobold Incident” in Eri and Hatae’s month of entries), so all other instances should be considered Drakonae (first named during the Helica month entries).

#Lore24 – Entry #306 – Fantasy Month IV #1 – A Return to the Great Library, A Return to Normalcy

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

To say that the last three months have been trying would be an understatement; it is a testament to my trials that I have neglected my journal for so long.  I will have to recall the specifics later, well, perhaps not ALL of them, given the rather…embarrassing nature of many of them.  Suffice to say, during that particular phase in which Mother quizzed me on my knowledge of various things before my departure from the Great Library, I wound up experiencing more of the things I never thought I would have than I could have imagined.

As my entries from months ago indicate, I was initially quite excited to become the tutor of Alekos, General Loukas Kormides’s son.  I had only visited Draconis Magna a handful of times, and to have the chance to visit it regularly was quite refreshing, at first anyway.  Though I thought I was prepared, I found myself quickly taken in by Alekos’s Mazoku nature, his seductive charms seemingly amplified by his very blood.  I knew this going in, of course, but still, my willpower was only so strong, and I soon found my mind slipping further away from the rational to the lustful.  Oh, Alekos is quite the attentive student, and is possessed of a most keen intellect, but his Mazoku blood runs quite heated indeed.  His attendant Kerryn slave, Ryona, didn’t help matters either, for she was perhaps more insistent with experiencing erotic pleasures than even he was.  Now, perhaps, I understand why Alekos’s mother, a priestess of Yurisaya whom I never had the opportunity to meet, had insisted upon fitting him with that chastity device.  Though why she did not fit Ryona with one is unclear to me; it would have drastically improved the situation, and would have curved her enthusiasm for demonstrating for me, more often with me, her erotic pleasure arts.

And then there is the wardrobe I now possess that I will likely never again wear.  After the first week, once we had gotten to know each other somewhat, Alekos insisted that I dress in the high fashions that are popular now, though I had previously claimed I would never do so.  I repeatedly said it was unnecessary, of course, but his charms are nigh irresistible when he has his mind set on something; were he but able to focus so intently upon his studies…  I am hardly a fan of such restrictive things, but the finery and custom fitting cannot be understated.  The thought has crossed my mind that perhaps I should drop the trunk containing them off somewhere beside the road before we reach the Great Library; should Mother find out about such things, she would insist on seeing me in every single item, no matter how revealing or restrictive.  I can but wonder whether her own perverse streak could rival that of Alekos…

The less said about what I found myself involved in behind closed doors between Alekos and Ryona the better…

Still, in spite of all of the setbacks and distractions, and the many things I had never intended to learn during my time there, I did manage to maintain a mostly strict schedule of study, and Alekos did perform quite well on the tests which I set before him.  Though a tough decision, I felt that it was in his best interest if I were to leave, and for another scholar to replace me.  When I communicated this to Mother, she understood, and it was then that I learned that I had lasted months longer than other tutors, a testament to my well-trained mind and discipline, no doubt… Still, I think Gray Tiger will make a most adequate tutor for Alekos, and I can be absolutely certain that he will put up with none of Alekos’s attempts at seduction, should he even try them upon a half-ogre, half-orc.

I look very much forward to returning to the Great Library, perhaps only for a while, to clear my mind and recenter myself.  Perhaps after some rest, I will find a way to adventure once again.  For now, though, we are a good distance outside the city, and it will be a long ride to the Wayrest at which we will stop tonight.  It is warm and pleasant, so I think I will nap for a time.

#Lore24 – Entry #305 – Sentinel City by Night #31 – The New Jyhad

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Sometimes I just hate it when I’m right.

Knew it had been way too damn quiet.  After I’d spoken to Sokolova and Grim about my suspicions, it was all tense for a couple weeks, each side just waiting for the other to drop the hammer.  The drug operation had packed up and moved somewhere else; guess they’d gotten wind that I’d sniffed them out and cleared out before the Hound pack and Conway’s SWAT team had swept in on them.  Sokolova’s people had reached out to the Kuei-jin, but diplomacy there was sketchy at best, and there had been little more than informal talks at this point. 

My search for more on the mastermind had come up with nothing but headaches.  I had more vague hints, but that was it.  Couldn’t get even a single solid lead, like whoever it was knew our methods and had already taken them into account.  I couldn’t even track down the new site of the drug operation, even though Vamp Out was flowing through the streets more and more now.  Almost seemed like the stuff appeared out of nowhere for the dealers to hand out, they said.

Then, after all the nights of silence, it all came down at once in an absolute catasterfuck of a night.  Never did care for snow, and it was already piling up by the time I awoke that night.  Should have taken that as a sign to stay in bed.

I’d gotten called in by the PD to consult on a heist at the museum…the same museum I’d spotted the mysterious Kitsune-masked kindred at multiple nights.  Someone had managed to bypass their security and slip past the guards, stolen some ancient relics that had just come into town for a big winter showcase, some dagger and staff and some jewelry from somewhere in the Middle East. 

Just as I was getting my bearings on the scene and starting to take in the nature of the magical auras lingering about the place, the police got the call that a riot had broken out at a Christmas party uptown…then they’d started getting a few more, all over the city.  People going crazy, attacking like wild animals.  I knew what it was immediately and started making calls and sending texts.  All that Vamp Out Grim’s people hadn’t managed to confiscate had just been activated.

I’d just gotten in touch with Sokolova when the line went dead.  It was about that same moment that I saw the explosion in her office building across town, followed by a few more in different parts of the city.  It seemed that my suspicions had been correct.  I couldn’t get a call through, nor could any of the PD, even their radio network was down.  Didn’t sit well at all with me that I hadn’t gotten a single reply to my texts before the network went down. 

Think I actually felt some honest to goodness fear in those moments when everything went pear-shaped. 

Then the cold realization hit.  I had just found myself in the middle of another war, and the Sabbat had just struck with one hell of an opening salvo.

With no clue who amongst the Kindred were still standing after that first strike, with the police trying to organize in the midst of a communications outage and city-wide drug-induced violence, and me counting the seconds until the inevitable appearance of the Fiends’ war ghouls, I could only speculate on just how bad things were going to get going forward. 

This new Jyhad had just gone from cold to hot, and here I was with just my .45 and my wits. 

It was going to be a long night.”

#Lore24 – Entry #304 – Sentinel City by Night #30 – A Mastermind in Hiding

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Well, after taking my licks for the past week, I’ve learned that I’m just going to have to resolve myself to not get caught.  Fighting is not an option.  I’m a much better shot than I am a brawler, but as was pointed out numerous times by the likes of Ramos and Winters, a gun is going to be worthless in a fight with a Fiend.  Duly noted. 

I’ve been pondering my corkboard since I’ve finished up my impromptu training with the Hounds, for now; got me scheduled for another round in a few nights.  Unfortunately, nothing particularly helpful was jarred loose while I was getting tossed around, but I’m still working on it.  I’m absolutely convinced there’s a mastermind controlling the Sabbat’s actions here.  They’re being far too careful.  Getting some echoes of San Diego going here, and I’m not liking that.

Maybe it’s something to do with Grim’s presence here keeping them at bay, but my gut is telling me otherwise.  They’re setting up something much larger than we expect, I’m certain of it, but I don’t know what that is.  It’s more than just striking fast and hard and taking over the city.  Something sorcerous, maybe?  That warning the Tremere gave me when I visited their chantry is nagging at me.  Where does the Lasombra, Delgado, fit into this, and how much of her clan is involved?  Aside from that altercation between the Hounds and the Lasombra ghouls a few weeks back, they’ve been almost a non-entity in town aside from when Delgado and the war ghouls attacked me.  Couldn’t get much out of Ramos about Delgado but doesn’t seem like she’s the type to think things through this thoroughly.    

Who is this mastermind running things?  I’ve not been able to track down anything on them, but all the signs are pointing to someone or something pushing the pieces around the board.  Someone was cluing Emmerson in on Kindred society to try and destabilize the Kindred power base in the city.  Likely that same someone managed to find out I had a backdoor and got it cleared off.  Whoever it is has also managed to deal with the Kuei-jin; they had a big presence on the west coast when I was in San Diego, and though I couldn’t prove it, I had plenty of suspicions they were involved in some of what went down there.  Same groups in town now, maybe?  Maybe they’ve worked with this mastermind before, saw a way to profit, to further their own agenda while staying out of the way of the Sabbat…

I’ve spoken to Becky about this too; she was getting knocked around alongside me this week.  Apparently, she’s not much for hand-to-hand combat either, total keyboard jockey.  Said she’d look over what I could give her, but so far, even she’s not come back with anything probative on the matter.

After thinking on the problem nearly all night, I’m now wondering if maybe they’ll repeat what they did in San Diego.  Sentinel City doesn’t have a primogen to bomb, though, at least, not a formal one like most Camarilla cities, but there is a meeting place where plenty of Kindred meet up… I’d better call Grim and Sokolova on this one…”

#Lore24 – Entry #303 – Sentinel City by Night #29 – The Sheriff

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Hadn’t expected a full gathering of the local Kindred community last night, but that’s what I got when I showed up at Sokolova’s office.  Knew something was odd when she ushered me into the meeting room.  Never was one for public speaking, always feel awkward up there in front of everyone, all those eyes on me.  Always been a bit of a lurker. 

Still, turns out there’s some Kindred I hadn’t met yet, most specifically the Brujah clan.  Not sure where they hung out, assumed the Red-Light District given how they were dressed, looked like a bunch of whores to put it bluntly.  Didn’t get all their names, just the head of the clan, Tara Lynn Harper, and she didn’t look so happy to be there.  Or maybe she’s just always pissed off like that.  Don’t know her well enough to say.  Few other faces of other clans showed up that I didn’t recognize, too.  Even the Tremere sent Abigail and Liz tonight, hell, even Misha Kyle was here, sitting with Ankara. 

Hush came over the crowd when Sokolova came in at last, but I knew it wasn’t because of her.  Grim Fucking Jacobs was with her tonight, as were his Hounds, but all eyes were on him.  Looked like some of the locals hadn’t seen him in person till then, if I’d read their reactions right.  Can’t say I knew him that well, we’d done some work together back in San Diego, but I’d done some research into that reputation he wore so proudly.  Reckon he dated back to the American Civil War, had been fighting one battle or another, in some form or another, ever since.  Still had the same cocky grin, still wore the gray calvary hat, and still proudly wore that big silver knife on his belt, the one he’d taken off a werewolf some time in the past when he’d been sheriff elsewhere; knew that thing was magical, didn’t need to read his aura to see it.  Not just anyone could come into an Elysium packing something like that, but nobody was speaking up to tell him to take it off, either.  He made sure to meet the eye of anyone who eyed him, and never once was he the one to turn away.

Couldn’t say I knew exactly what he was all about, but I knew he was a dangerous enemy to have.  Woe be to whoever got on his bad side.

Managed to pull myself back to the moment once he’d taken his seat and kicked his boots up on the corner of the big table, and with Sokolova’s introductions done and the meeting called to order, I got to work presenting what I’d been digging into for the last few weeks, and my latest set of photos from the old distillery.  The sight of that thing I’d nicknamed Sasquatch caused quite the stir in the crowd, and the way the Tremere’s faces darkened when they looked at the woman with the fancy tattoos pretty much confirmed my theory that she was one of the Fiends’ sorcerers.  Saw some suspicious eyes turn toward Misha, too, but they didn’t linger long, maybe because of Ankara’s proximity to her.

Gave the lowdown on the Vamp Out drug, and its component sources in the Chinatown smuggling operation, as well as the Kuei-jin I’d photographed while I was there.  Think I might’ve gotten a few people nervous when they finally realized exactly where I’d managed to sneak in and out of.  Told them about my run-in with the ghouls and the mystery Lasombra that night, too.  That got Ramos’s fur ruffled.

Becky had been typing furiously on her laptop from the moment I’d started my presentation, and jumped in to continue with some information her people had managed to find that went beyond what I had on offer. 

I was good, but the Nosferatu were something else.

She had the name of the Tzimisce sorcerer, AJ Tibideaux, confirmed Sabbat shit-stirrer going back decades, was likely involved in the blitz that took the east coast back in ’99, helping to work on all the war ghouls and create new shovelheads for the assault.  Apparently, the big monstrosity was her brother, or at least that’s what word had been about it; the name she had on it was Gugwe, apparently another type of Sasquatch, a much more bloodthirsty variant.  Guess my call had been a good one on that nickname.  She even had the name of the Lasombra (no photos, obviously):  Selena Esperanza Delgado.  Ramos didn’t hide her growl well.

As for the Kuei-jin, Becky had much less information, given the usual wall of silence and close familial bonds of the east Asian culture they sprang from, but she was fairly sure she had at least the names to go with the faces I’d managed to capture.  Emiko Koike was the Japanese schoolgirl, and the twins were Chao Feng and Qaio Lihun Teng, suspected to be heading some of the Triad groups operating all over the world.  Unfortunately, that was pretty much all she had on that front; Mr. Wong and his family were known smugglers working for the Triads, running anything illegal, up to and including human smuggling operations, but his ties to the Kuei-jin had only been suspected until now.

Grim took the floor after our info-dump, speaking every bit like the military commander he was.  A lot of faces didn’t like the idea of taking a militant stance on matters, but he was adamant, and quite right, that when it came to the Sabbat, a no-tolerance policy and dropping the biggest hammer with as much force as possible was absolutely required.  He related that he’d seen what they can do to a city firsthand, had to retreat from DC in the ’99 blitz in fact, not to mention the mess in San Diego.  He was right to call the Sabbat terrorists.  He didn’t go into all the details, but confirmed he was already working with his people and Sokolova’s security force, led by Laura Conway, to build their own forces in town. 

The way Grim suggested everyone get very good at defending themselves very fast left no room for argument, however many people wanted to.  He’d be working up a rotation for even the likes of Kyou to spend time with his Hounds training.  Once some voices finally spoke up against it, Sokolova stomped them right down.

On the one hand, I was glad to see such decisive action being taken.  On the other, I could only hope it would be enough.  The Sabbat sure seemed awfully damned organized already; couldn’t help but feel like we were trying to catch up.  For a wonder, the Tremere were eager to help.  Suspected some bad blood between them and this particular line of Fiends, but Abigail and Liz related that their chantry was already working on countermeasures to known Tzimisce methods, and trying to come up with some for those they didn’t know. 

Once all the complaints had been addressed and the meeting adjourned, Grim pulled me aside out in the hall and told me I was first in line to get some hand-to-hand training from Ramos and Winters; if I was going to be skulking around as a scout in this war, I’d damn well better be able to defend myself.  He asked me if I was still carrying my “peashooter”, and then handed me a pistol case when I confirmed it.  Inside was a new 1911 pistol and a quartet of magazines, already loaded; he told me to get started practicing with it too.  Wasn’t much against a vampire, but would do well enough against some ghouls, and packed more of a punch than my .38. 

My next few nights were booked up, it seemed.  Couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to Grim Fucking Jacobs, could I?”

#Lore24 – Entry #302 – Sentinel City by Night #28 – Watchers in the Dark

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Off to one side of my board were three unknown entities that may or may not be related to the larger conspiracy I had set myself to unravel.  They’d shown up in Sentinel City during the last couple weeks, so the timing seemed far too suspicious to outright ignore, but whether or not they were related to the Sabbat and their drugs, I didn’t know, not yet anyway.  Shit like this is why I detested the Kindred intrigues; how could they have survived hundreds or thousands of years of this insanity?

Anyway, first on my list of known unknowns was an as-yet-unnamed Kindred I’d spotted several times around the Museum of Antiquities up near in the university campus during my attempts to source a dealer for the Vamp-Out.  Hadn’t thought of her as suspicious at first glance, just another of our kind looking for a meal perhaps.  She wore a mask at the time, one of those Asian fox-spirit masks, a kitsune; considering it was Halloween night when I’d first spotted her, that wasn’t out of the norm, though maybe it was a bit odd after the whole Dollface incident.  She rose on the list of suspicious persons when I’d spotted her at least three more times, each time lingering around outside the museum, still wearing that mask, but there weren’t any more slayings, and she seemed to be intent on just lingering outside the place, so for now, I’m classifying her as just another mental case, maybe another Malkavian.

Second, higher up the threat list, is a federal agent that showed up just after Blumenthal’s people ID’ed the Johnson clan members.  Don’t know what she looks like yet, only that her ID said her name was Momoko Chan; seemed an odd name for a government agent but given that she was still hanging around the city, not getting involved more as of yet, had me on alert.  What was she after?  Did she suspect Kindred involvement?  Did she have other reasons for getting close to this case?  Hadn’t even laid eyes on her yet, but something about her had me on alert.

Highest threat just arrived a couple nights ago; Sokolova had actually clued me in on this one, a tip from Becky’s people.  Bonnie O’Hara was in town, and that couldn’t be a good thing.  Nobody had spotted her yet, couldn’t figure on who this Assamite’s target was, but it had all the Kindred community on edge, especially the Prince.  Hadn’t heard that name since San Diego, after the entirety of the Primogen got wiped out in that bombing.  No proof she’d been in on it, had been a lot of deaths back then, any number of them could have been on her tab, but no proof of it. 

As dawn came on, I could only say with certainty that a right proper shitstorm was brewing, and it was only growing stronger by the minute.  Sentinel City was about to have some very interesting nights.  Suppose I’d better get up with Sokolova tomorrow, get her up to speed on what’s been going down, what else I’ve found out since my last briefing.  My gut told me that whatever was building up here would be popping off soon.”

#Lore24 – Entry #301 – Sentinel City by Night #27 – The Flesh Witch and the Sasquatch

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“The driver of the truck got out first, and for a wonder, she looked pretty much normal from what I could tell, aside from those nasty black streaks in her pale aura.  She had a darker complexion, dark brown hair in a loose ponytail, dressed kind of like a trucker with that coat and ball cap, on the muscular side, kind of looked like she could handle herself in a brawl.  Had some scars on her face; thought they might’ve been natural, but they were too symmetrical, likely more ritualistic.  One of those Tzimisce sorcerers, maybe?  She spoke tersely to the Pillbilly as she went around to the back of the truck, but I couldn’t get anything out of it since I didn’t comprehend the language.  Didn’t even get any names out of it.

The whole truck shifted as she pulled the rear hatch open, the suspension creaking as something huge moved around inside.  Then I saw the massive hand grab the door frame, claws maybe a foot long on each finger, covered in bony plates and spikes, and the arm that followed was as thick as something you’d see on a gorilla, maybe thicker.  What pulled itself out of the truck was hideous, all muscle and bony exoskeleton, glowing red eyes over a wicked fanged maw.  I knew the Fiends could take on a battle form, but why was this one just riding around with it active?  Or…was this NOT its battle form?  Was this just its normal state?

Even the two war ghouls seemed on edge around this thing, whatever it was, to say nothing of how the more normal-looking ghouls backed away from it.  Don’t know why, but the word “Sasquatch” suddenly popped into my head, one of those mythical things you always heard stories about but never saw.  Whatever it was, its aura was just as stained as the other Fiend.  Well, I got this one on camera at least.  I silently thanked my foresight in adopting a mirrorless setup as soon as I could a few years back; the silent photo mode was a real blessing in this profession. 

The way the monstrous thing sniffed the air and peered around the drug lab told me it was time to clear out.  For all I knew it had sharper senses than a damn lupine, might’ve already had my scent tickling what passed for a nose.  I eased out the way I’d come, moving extra carefully to make sure I didn’t make any sounds that shouldn’t have been there.  Once I was clear of the building and beyond the outer fence, I took off at a run, and didn’t stop till I was safely in my car.  Then I narrowly avoided a speed trap on the way back into the city proper in my haste to get back to the apartment, the lingering scent of the cooked meth still all over me. 

Had some work to do when I got back; new faces to add to the wall, but not a whole lot of progress on the mysterious web I had been weaving.  There were even some mysterious players that may or may not be related that I’d picked up on around town that seemed just a bit too suspicious for their own good.  Course, that could just be me being paranoid.  I’d been experiencing a lot of that lately.”

#Lore24 – Entry #300 – Sentinel City by Night #26 – The Threat from the South

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“I’d been on the case for another couple of weeks when I finally caught a break; Sentinel City had its first big snowfall of the season as the year wound down.  In that time, I’d seen the rollout of the Vamp-Out drug in full, but so far there had been no further incidents like the first one.  Think maybe that was a case of an overdose, or a batch that was way too potent.  Still, what was the bigger play here?  Why spread this stuff around the city if it wasn’t going to spark up like it had that first time? 

I’d asked that very question to the Tremere, but so far hadn’t gotten a response.  The apprentice, Elizabeth Powell, had been made my official contact, but so far she and her clan had been of little value in my investigation.  Figure they needed to get out more, but who am I to try and convince the Warlocks of anything?  Even after all the shit that had happened over the last twenty years, you still couldn’t trust them.  Some things never change.

Anyway, I’d not sensed my Lasombra shadow for some time now.  Wondering if they thought I was dead, or if they thought I’d just gotten the warning to stay away.  I had been more careful in my stalking since my beatdown.  Think that’s what allowed me to finally get close to the old brewery tonight, see their operation up close.  Could smell the meth cooking from a block away.  Took plenty of pictures on the way.

Once I got inside, saw the two war ghouls acting like forklifts, spotted the other Johnson clan members directing the workers.  Finally spotted the mysterious Pillbilly, grabbed some photos of him, too.  Couldn’t tell he’d been modified, but my aura sight picked up some hints that he wasn’t entirely stock anymore.  He came in with a fervor, though.  Snapped everyone to attention.  Not sure what he told them, guess Cajun is another language I need to brush up on.

Didn’t have to wait too long to find out, though.  Heard a big V8 rumble up outside a few minutes later.  An old late 70s model Ford pickup pulled in once the garage door was opened up, had a big camper in the bed; no, not a camper, more like a modified refrigeration setup, patched together with extra sheets of metal.  First thought was that it was loaded with more gear or supplies for the drug operation, given how the back end squatted down.  That thought didn’t last long, though.  I was about to get my first look at some full-blooded Tzimisce.”