#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 #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.”