Friday 30 December 2022

Vampire the Masquerade - V5 - Session Four - Galerie Sanguine: San Francisco

I'm currently running a Vampire the Masquerade chronicle using the 5th Edition rule-set for a small group of fellow role-players.


Our primary chronicle is set in Los Angeles and features a small group of Camarilla agents sent into the 'Free States' to bring them back under Camarilla control. This however will be the first one of several planned interludes which will centre on the expansion of Baron Michael Tomassio's 'Galerie Sanguine' franchise to other domains.
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The now obligatory warning bit - These session write-ups will contain swearing, sexual references and other references that might offend. There are however a list of potential triggers listed before the introduction. I've also used actual photographs to represent some characters which I'll give acknowledgements to at the end if I've any idea who they are.
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Links to our main campaign, with a summary of each session can be found HERE.
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Links
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The PC's
Thomas Caldwell, Ventrue
Francis Maranzano, Lasombra

Thomas Caldwell and Francis Maranzano

The Storyteller
As everyone else...

If I think something needs a bit of out of character explanation then those will get a storytellers note that will helpfully be in red. Introductory pieces that I read to the group are in Blue. Where particular NPC's have a mention in a faction profile you will be able to reach it by clicking on their name or faction beneath their picture.

Trigger Warnings for This Session: Blood (Obviously).

Introduction
Word has been given to the kindred of San Francisco that their presence is required at a meeting at Elysium for several announcements direct from the Prince, that will apparently effect all of it's residents.

San Francisco at Night - A Camarilla Domain

Most rumours point to this being the appointment of several of the cities kindred to the few remaining positions not yet allocated by Prince Winder, or that were missing under former Prince Vannevar. These roles are also to take into account that San Jose is effectively now a Camarilla domain albeit one without a Prince and so roles taking into account an increased population seem like likely additions.

These titles are likely to be....

Herald
The Herald, who proclaims decrees to Kindred subjects and carries messages to and from other rulers. The Herald acts as the Prince’s voice, making the Prince’s edicts known to the domain when the domain is too voluminous that the Prince could do it themselves, or simply appoint their Seneschal for the task.

For example, a Herald recites the domain’s policies at Elysium, and speaks the results of any formal convocations where a Prince and her court define new laws. As well, a Herald announces the arrival of august and titled Kindred at formal events and at Elysium. This function can be abused, as a Herald may deliberately delay or misspeak the policy in question. Such Heralds rarely hold on to their positions after such treachery, however. If a Herald hasn’t spoken a policy aloud, that policy does not yet affect the Kindred. A Cainite can’t be retroactively held accountable for something he didn’t know broke the laws of the domain, especially if the policy recently changed or had been decided but not yet communicated.

Shadow
The Shadow, is a formal advisor to a coterie, assigned by the Prince to shepherd them through the minefield of Kindred society. In light of the many new dangers that a neonate kindred could be exposed to, or even worse, draw to their elders, it has been deemed an important addition to the ranks of a Camarilla domain.

Principle Of Faith
Also, in light of the many new kindred religions coming to the fore in the modern nights, a Principle of Faith is likely to be appointed. Though the strict definition of the role is that they are advisors in 'matters of the soul', it is widely considered to simply be a way of avoiding the Prince having to, or appearing to take sides when such kindred religions come into conflict.

Primogen
Less likely rumours are that more Primogen are to be appointed, however this seems unlikely as amongst the 'official' Camarilla clans only the Banu Haqim and Lasombra are unrepresented and neither of those are required given the extremely limited numbers of those clan members locally. 

Though there have also been hints that a Toreador Primogen might be appointed this has been deemed unlikely. As the Seneschal is already of Clan Toreador it is supposed that them also having a Primogen may give them too much influence. Anyone wandering why this reasoning doesn't also apply to the Ventrue, are discouraged from voicing this opinion by older, and wiser, kindred.

It is also considered likely that several new 'hounds' will be appointed to assist the cities Scourge.

The meeting is to take place tomorrow evening at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, an Elysium petitioned for by Anya Bloom, which was granted.

Scene Seventeen - Beneath Chinatown
Chinatown - San Francisco
Thomas and Francis decided to visit the only other Anarch they knew of within the city to discuss the possible consequences of their plan to undermine Anya, the cities Keeper of Elysium.

Unfortunately, Maximus resided beneath Chinatown, an area under the control of the so-called 'Kindred of the East'. Maximus was in active opposition to these vampires so Chinatown was unlikely to be welcoming to allies of his. Nonetheless they needed his council so they decided the risk was worth it. Just in case they did encounter trouble, Francis went well equipped for a fight.

They knew that Maximus's haven was accessed via an abandoned subway station though it's exact location within was a secret he had not shared with them. After leaving their vehicle at a nearby carpark, they headed to the approximate location of Maximus's haven.

The subway station was dark and decayed. The barrier across it's entrance was still intact, though the wire fence on either side had several holes within, easily accessible by anyone willing to make the attempt. With a shrug, Francis entered first and held the flap of fencing aside to ease Thomas's entry.

Abandoned Subway Station - San Francisco
The area was inhabited by a sorry looking selection of down and out individuals as well as the usual predators who preyed on them. A group in one corner eyed them up as they arrived. Thomas was reasonably sure that they made their living as muggers, and equally sure that Francis could handle them all without effort.

It wasn't long before one of the areas beggars approached them. Francis moved between them and Thomas.

"What ya doing down 'ere?

This wasn't an unreasonably question under the circumstances, so Francis decided to reply.

"I lost my wallet. Thought I might have left it with a friend of mine named Maximus who lives around here. Any idea where I might find him?"

The beggar responded exactly as Francis expected. "I might...for a hundred dollars..."

Thomas decided to leave the negotiations to Francis. Thomas was an expert manipulator himself, but with these kinds of people, Francis's brand of intimidation unusually worked better.

'The Beggar' - More than he seems?
"Sounds reasonable" replied Francis. "Payment on delivery though. Not a moment before..." The beggar seemed slightly disappointed and Thomas noticed that the muggers lost interest a little when no money changed hands.

The beggar guided them down a flight of stairs that had been partially concealed from view by a pile of junk. Thomas used the light on his phone to illuminate the route so as to avoid stepping in anything unsavoury. Francis, who was used to navigating the dark, needed no such assistance. Several other unfortunates were using this lower area as shelter but they paid no heed to the newcomers. Minding their own business had always served them well.

Their guide then stopped abruptly before another flight of stairs. "He's down there. We don't go further than this." The fear in the tramps voice convinced Francis that he was probably being truthful, yet he was still suspicions. The beggar seemed just a little to confident to be merely what he claimed to be. Francis thumbed out six twenty dollar bills and handed them over. "Call the extra a tip." said Francis as their guide then disappeared quickly back the way he'd came.

San Francisco Warrens - Maximus's Lair?
"I guess I'm going first." quipped Francis to Thomas. As the Ventrue moved to illuminate the route with his phone, Francis pushed his hand back down. Though he only touched the phone lightly, it instantly began to malfunction and went dark.

"If I'm going first then I need the shadows." Stated Francis matter of factly.

The door at the bottom was unlocked and led into an abandoned office, possibly originally attended as an administration area of some kind. It contained a desk, several battered filing cabinets and a settee that had clearly seen better days. On the opposite corner was a heavy duty with an old analogue keypad which the pair correctly presumed was locked.

"I guess we wait." said Thomas.

Francis gestured at a vent in the wall behind which a surveillance camera had been poorly concealed. "Well he knows we're here, anyway." he replied.

Scene Eighteen - The Rumour Mill
"I wonder how long he keeps people waiting for?" asked Francis conversationally, though Thomas could hear the slight edge to his tone.

Thomas, who had used similar tactics to make people uncomfortable, had some ideas about that. It was an excellent way of seeing how important the reason for the meeting was, as well as revealing a lot about the person. When frustrated, people defaulted to their natural inclinations, and knowing these made people easier to manipulate. Of course it was also possible that Maximus was just an asshole.

The lock on the heavy-duty door clicked loudly and the door swung open to reveal Maximus. "Social call?" he asked, before inviting them into his inner sanctum.

Once more they were struck by the fact that, in appearance at least, he had none of the deformities associated with the Nosferatu Clan. Up close however, the greyness in his skin was more obvious, as was the copious use of scent to cover up the reek of decay clinging to his body.

Beyond the door was a larger room, with two other rooms leading off it. The furniture was mostly salvaged but was of decent enough quality and might be considered comfortable if ones standards weren't particularly high. Power had been redirected to the room from somewhere above and crudely spliced into an old junction box, attached to one corner. This provided light to the room, and power to a number of old computers wired together atop several desks as well as what looked like a box for a telecommunications connection.

The door to the room on the left was open and within could be seen rows of filing cabinets and shelves laden with file boxes and folders. The other room was protected by a door that appeared to have been salvaged from an old vault. Presumably this led to his sleeping area.

Maximus Sun - Nosferatu
San Francisco Anarch
"This is better than I expected." commented Thomas. Maximus chose to take this as a compliment, though Francis wasn't sure that it actually was. "We'd like your opinion on something. Specifically the 'favour' requested of us by Prince Winder."

Maximus lent back in his chair and grimaced. "You mean the shit task you were given so you can get the blame if it all goes fucking wrong?" he snarled. Though it was clear that his anger was with the machinations of the Camarilla, not his fellow Anarchs.

"That's the one..." quipped Francis

Thomas ignored the Lasombra's comment and continued. "We've gathered evidence of whose behind Malaki's rise, and we have a culprit, as well as a way of removing their support. Unfortunately they have enough influence to make direct action untenable. But that's the way it is, and we're going to have to find a different way to ruin this kindred's night."

"The culprit?" asked Maximus.

On hearing Anya's name, the Nosferatu seemed very pleased indeed. "I'd love to fuck up that stupid bitch for eternity, but I guess a bad night will do for now. What do you have in mind?"

Thomas then deferred to Francis to lay out their scheme.

"We intend to provoke a reaction from Anya. Hopefully one that's extreme enough so the rules of Elysium are broken in spectacular fashion. I imagine that the Camarilla can't let someone be Keeper of Elysium if they can't keep to their own rules...well...as long as we can make her break them publicly so she can't squirm her way out of it..."

Anya Bloom - Toreador
Keeper of Elysium and Harpy
Maximus had his own take on this. "If she flips out in an Elysium, or even better, actually frenzies, then Miriam will stake her through the heart right there and then. She won't risk harm coming to the Prince. Anyway, you still haven't told me what you want me to do?"

"It would help a great deal..." clarified Francis. "...if she was already on edge before we play our trump card. Some unpleasant rumours, backed by evidence that we will provide you with, would do the trick nicely." he then handed over copies of the documents they'd obtained by the mage they had met at Malaki's exhibition.

"So we use her own petty little methods against her? Excellent. There's a delicious irony to fucking her over using her own favourite tools. Count me in..."

Thomas still had some extra points to make.

"Others within the Camarilla will certainly gain from this, but that can't be avoided. In fact, in the long run, it might help us undermine the system and gain some more ground. For now, however, it means we get to fulfil our obligation to the Prince and inconvenience Anya at the same time."

Maximus seemed to accept this as inevitable. Every Camarilla kindred had twenty others behind them ready to take their place, but generally they were far less competent than their predecessors. If they were any good then they'd already have taken the job for themselves. He than said as much to Francis and Thomas.

"How does the current Prince fit into that assessment?" asked Thomas. For a moment Maximus didn't say anything, seemingly thinking the question over before replying.

Vannevar Thomas - Ventrue
Former Prince of San Francisco and San Jose
"Miss Sara Anne Winder might be an exception to that rule. Prince Vannevar Thomas held all the cards, yet Winder was still close to dragging him off the throne. It was only a matter of time before she got her fangs into the top job. We need to be careful of her.
"

Maximus sounded sincere, and his opinion matched Thomas and Francis's own.

"If that's all..." continued the Nosferatu. "...then I'll escort you out."

They were met at the top of the stairs by the beggar from earlier. Francis was now even more sure that he was more than he seemed. Maximus's conversation with him confirmed their suspicions. "How much did you grift them for?"

The beggar smiled , then looked at his feet. Something in his subservient nature reminded Francis of how his own ghouls reacted. He was now sure that this individual was either a ghoul, or blood bound to Maximus. He kept the thought to himself.

As they headed to the surface, Francis turned around and noticed that rather than head back down to his lair, Maximus had made his way down the disused tracks and into one of the tunnels beyond.

"I'm concerned that he didn't ask for payment of some kind." said Thomas, interrupting the musing of his fellow Anarch. "I'm sure the bill will arrive later..." replied Francis. The Ventrue nodded in reply. Francis was almost certainly correct.

Interlude - Kristi
Kristi Pittman - Toreador
Social Influencer, Harpy
Kristi, social influencer and media expert, sat behind a multi-screen computer system where several dozen bot identities would soon be busy pushing a new trend that would greatly benefit the Keeper of Elysium's own fashion empire. All It needed was her to push a single key and social media would begin to be flooded with a gradually escalating series of spurious identities spouting bullshit that fit Anya's current agenda.

Personally, Kristi thought this particular idea was stupid and that was probably why she was hesitating to start the various coordinated programs running. While she was contemplating the social suicide of defying Anya Bloom, Sarina Harrington glided into her office. She'd always been slightly jealous of Sarina's effortless style and natural beauty, but this always faded once Sarina actually spoke to her. She talked to her like she was an actual person, which was more than Anya did.

"What awful trend has Anya got you pushing this time?" she said, peering over Kristi's shoulder.

"It's terrible isn't it?" she replied. Then panicked a little as she realised she'd said that out loud.

Sarina moved an imaginary hair from the forehead of the concerned influencer before gently stroking her cheek. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell on you. I haven't told her that you're having second thoughts about being Herald, now have I?"

Sarina Harrington - Toreador
Harpy
It was common knowledge that Anya wanted the job of Herald to go to someone under her control, and that she was doing everything in her power to prevent the job going to the Gangrel 'Fixer' Lilliana Swann.

"I think I have a solution to that problem." continued Sarina. "How about I put a word into the appropriate ears that you're not really up to the job? That way when it goes to Lilliana, it'll look like internal politics and you can look all disappointed so Anya can't blame you? Personally I think you'd be great at it, but if it's not for you?"

Kristi's look of gratitude was all the reply that was necessary and Sarina left. Of course there was no need for her to do anything else. What she'd suggested to Kristi had already been put into motion. She did however need to make a quick phone call.

"Lilliana? The job is basically yours. Now you won't forget about our little agreement will you?"

Lilliana, currently sat in a spacious office at Aegis's San Francisco office, put the landline down and picked up one of half a dozen burner phones scattered across her desk.  "Fucking Toreador..." she muttered as she began to make the arrangements necessary to settle the boon with Sarina, that had been necessary get her the job she'd been tasked with obtaining by her own 'boss'.

Sometimes she missed the nights where all that concerned her was where to hide the body of whoever had been her lunch...

Scene Nineteen - Mort
San Francisco Museum of Modern Art
The Museum is currently closed for 'routine maintenance', and visitors are being directed to appropriate parking areas by ghouls and blood-bound mortals dressed as security guards, construction workers and maintenance staff.

Francis reluctantly left his weapons in their vehicle under the care of one of his ghouls. His experiences as both kindred and mobster had taught him that trusting security to others invariably meant they were armed, and you weren't.

You are informed that the museum itself is open for you to 'browse' but that any disruption, damages or items discovered 'missing' will be treated in the same way as breaking the rules of Elysium would be. This dictate has come direct from Anya Bloom and is well within her rights as 'Keeper of Elysium' which also means that she could insist that any transgressors be punished by the Sheriff.

The official meeting place is a cavernous basement, seemingly running the full length of the museum, that has been cleared for the occasion. A raised 'stage' area has been created in one corner and a selection of paintings, sculptures and other installations have been moved here from displays in the museum proper. Various screens and drapes, each colour coordinated to the one next to it, have been used to cover up the no doubt normally bland basement walls.

With the actual event still some time away, the pair decided to have a look around.

Mort Sheaffer - Nosferatu
Bay Area Resident
Ahead of them was a kindred whose wardrobe was blandly simple. He was wearing a long, dirty trench coat, blue jeans, shitkicker boots, and a Harvard University sweatshirt. In one hand he held a battered fedora. Presumably he normally wore this to partially conceal his features as his face looked like a prune that someone had left in a microwave for a week.

He was possibly the most hideous Nosferatu the pair had ever seen. At six feet, three inches tall he also had the build of a professional footballer or similar. One imagined that he could dominate a room with his physical presence, with little effort. He turned as they approached and immediately held out his free hand in greeting.

Francis immediately presumed that this was a test of some kind. He was sure that a Nosferatu who looked like this inspired a certain amount of revulsion in more image focussed clans. Ones initial reaction was sure to flavour his opinion of them from then on. Thomas accepted the outstretched hand without pause, much to the Nosferatu's surprise.

Thomas introduced himself and the Nosferatu responded, introducing himself as Mort Sheaffer "...from the Bay Area." The large grin on his face was strangely disarming though his voice was deadpan, making it difficult to discern whether any comment he made was serious or not.

"So I guess this place is your sort of thing? Running an art gallery?" enquired Mort, who clearly knew exactly who they were. "Though events like this aren't very 'Anarch' I imagine?"

"Not really..." replied Francis. "...we normally just stand in a big room and shout at each other, then have a fight..." This comment got a laugh from Mort that seemed to be genuine. With the ice broken a little, Thomas decided to see what the Nosferatu thought about what was likely to occur tonight. He was surprisingly forthcoming and Francis got the impression that he was a lot more 'street level' than most Camarilla.

"
Lilliana Swann - Gangrel
Representative of 'The Oratory'
The big debate is who gets the Herald job. It doesn't matter much to the high ups, but the rest of us will be effected if some uppity prick gets the job. Or to be fair, if the puppet of an uppity prick gets the job...
"

Neither of the Anarchs interrupted and let Mort continue.

"...Kristi is being pushed forward by Anya. Lilliana is the other candidate but she doesn't seem like she gives a fuck. I feel sorry for Kristi. She's basically a nice person, which in the Camarilla means you get treated like a sucker, and Anya can cause a lot of shit for anyone not kissing her arse."

"Who would you like to see get the job?" asked Thomas. His tone was conversational, but the connection between Anya and Kristi meant that this could effect them long-term if their plan failed. However he didn't want the Nosferatu to know that the question was important to him.

"Lilliana." he replied without even thinking about his answer. "She keeps her word, and her only concern about status is if you can afford her prices. She doesn't play favourites, so out of the two she's the one least likely to use the role to fuck anyone over. Anya on the other hand..."

There was no need to finish the sentence. All three knew that Kristi, as a puppet of Anya, would twist any direct to suit her own agenda based upon the whims of the Keeper of Elysium.

"True enough..." responded Thomas. "...and besides that, Anya's too busy with that artist guy...Malaki, is it? to have time to run another job by proxy..." Not wanting to push their luck or overplay their hand, Thomas left the comment hanging, Then the pair thanked Mort for his time and moved on.

Scene Twenty - Roland
The next room of the museum contained a number of sculptures. Several kindred were there, but only one seemed to actually be interested in the works therein. He was surrounded by a semi-circle of individuals who seemed to be in considerable awe of him.

Roland Stolzfus - Toreador
Sculptor and Teacher
He was quite handsome, in a slick, Euro-guy kind of way. Five and a half feet tall and starvation thin, he had a smooth face but a sculptor's calloused hands. His dirty-blonde hair was slicked back and pulled into a shoulder-length ponytail. He wore a hand-tailored white shirt and a slate grey suit, both of which were clearly of the highest quality. There was a diamond stud earring in his right ear, and he wore expensive sunglasses as well. Whoever he was, he clearly had access to considerable wealth.

The sculpture he was observing was modern and consisted of jagged metal welded together at unusual angles to form a pair of stylised figures, entwined in an embrace. Though whether they were engaged in combat or lovemaking was open to debate.

"What do you think?" he asked, as Thomas and Francis approached.

The first thing Thomas had noticed was the expensive suit. Francis on the other hand had noticed the hands. Despite his stick-thin form, he had hands that looked like they could crush bones with ease.

"No idea. Are they fighting, or fucking?" asked Francis. This comment created a fresh debate among the man's followers who had apparently already been discussing this point at length.

"One of yours?" asked Thomas on a hunch.

He nodded then introduced himself, though didn't offer a hand to shake as Mort had done. Thomas looked down and saw that the work was attributed to a Roland Stoltzfus.

"I'm afraid so..." he replied. "...I was quite proud of it initially but now it feels like it's lacking...something..." This comment inspired several of, what Thomas now presumed were his students, to immediately leap to the works defence.

William Butler - Brujah
Los Angeles Sculptor
Thomas didn't really care one way or another, but he had seen works by this sculptor sell for considerable profits, so considered him worth having a conversation with.

"I have some works in my gallery from an artist who works in a similar medium. Your own works and his would compliment each other well. His name is William Butler, though he shapes the metal with his own hands, not that we advertise that fact to the kine, of course. I imagine your own process is a little more dangerous, considering the limitations of our kind?"

Roland nodded. "A certain amount of suffering is good for the inspiration." he replied. "My own students are yet to fully grasp the benefits of this though." A few of his students seemed embarrassed at this assessment. Thomas sympathised. If he had a choice of medium, he'd also be unlikely to chose one that involved fire.

Francis decided this was a good time to divert the conversation towards their own aims.

"It's a lot different than the sort of work that Anya favours, I imagine? She seems more interested in painters than sculptors..."

Thomas noted a brief look of irritation cross Roland's face. It was clear that he agreed with the assessment. Francis also saw the look and decided to press the point a little.

"...which is a pity. I'm only an amateur myself, Thomas is the salesman, I'm more the muscle. But it's clear that Anya's interests are less in the art, and more on than whatever trend she can ride this week. Though I've often been told that Toreador are divided as a Clan between the true artists and the poseurs..."

'Daphne' - Toreador
Missing Presumed Destroyed
This last comment was risky, and could possibly have been interpreted as an insult to Roland's clan as a whole. Fortunately, Francis had calculated correctly. As Roland's answer confirmed.

"Sad but true." he agreed. "It's a shame that those embraced for their talents must bow to the whims of those who wouldn't know true art if it fell on them. The former Elder of Clan Toreador within this city, Daphne, was a far better judge of what mattered and what didn't. Unfortunately she disappeared at about the same time as Anya rose to power."

Thomas and Francis exchanged a brief look. It was growing more and more obvious that Anya's position was built on a house of cards. Fear was her main weapon, and should she no longer be feared, her support would disappear. Their plan might just work.

"I suppose that means some of those rumours we've been hearing might be true..." said Thomas, almost casually. Roland smiled, and his students began to pay attention to what their teacher had to say on the subject.

As Roland spoke, it became clear that Maximus had been playing his part well. The rumours spreading about Anya and Malaki had already began to be twisted and exaggerated. Roland repeated them without comment, and it was clear that he saw himself as someone who was above mere politics. Of course when the politics effected the perception of his own work, it seemed he made an exception to that neutrality.

Scene Twenty One - Melmoth
Tex Cainen - Toreador
Cowboy Poet, Bodyguard of Melmoth
Deciding that with the meeting imminent they'd cover more ground separately, they headed in opposite directions to see what else they could learn before implementing their plan to bring about Anya's downfall.

Francis found himself in an exhibit dedicated to Oscar Wilde an Irish poet and playwright of the late eighteen hundreds. Evidently not particularly popular a location with the cities kindred, as only a single individual was in the room, though another, who had the look of a bodyguard, was at the entrance keeping an eye on any who entered.

Real predators knew each other instinctively and Francis had a talent for sizing up the opposition. This cowboy looking fucker could handle himself, and had obviously made the same assessment about Francis. No words were exchanged but both were experienced enough to know what remained unsaid. Francis gave the guard a nod of acknowledgement and received one in return.

As Francis drew closer, he could see that the kindred was obviously a fan of the poet. His dress was similar in style, though more modern, to that which Oscar Wilde's was wearing in a number of the photographs and the kindred even looked superficially similar in appearance.

"Not much information to cover a mans entire life." commented Francis.

"Agreed." replied the kindred. "I am Sebastian Melmoth, and considered somewhat of an institution with San Francisco...and you are one of the Anarchs. Francis, is it?"

Oscar Wilde - Irish Poet
Francis confirmed his identity and then continued. "Are you a fan of Oscar Wilde?" he asked.

"You could say that." was the somewhat vague reply. "Though when I heard that the museum was having an exhibit about his life, I was expecting something a bit more comprehensive. What brings you here?"

The Lasombra admitted that he was just browsing, while waiting for the Prince's upcoming proclamations. Francis had heard of Sebastian Melmoth. His club was one of the most famous places of Elysium in the world 

Storytellers Note - The Player hadn't heard of Melmoth, but his character would have done so I furnished him with some information.

Francis knew that Sebastian had come up with the idea of using a luxury yacht in the possession of then Prince Thomas Vannevar for the construction of a club exclusively for vampires and their chosen retainers. Melmoth had remained the owner of the Vampire Club through the era of Prohibition, various earthquakes, the Great Depression, the recent fall of Prince Vannevar, the declarations of the Anarch Free States, and the incursion of the so-called Kindred of the East, and he never found his customers wanting.

Sebastian Melmoth - Toreador
The Vampire Club
"I find you interesting." stated Melmoth, pretty much out of nowhere. "There is to be a celebration of the hundred and twentieth anniversary of the Vampire Club in a few months. Consider yourself and, Thomas, is it? invited. I'll arrange for formal invitations closer to the date. Some 'new blood', so to speak, might liven the event up somewhat."

Francis was suspicious about the unprompted invite, but had to admit that it was an excellent opportunity for them to get in with the right people and as The Vampire Club was an Elysium at least they'd be in no danger. Well, until the left the yacht that is.

"I look forward to it." replied Francis and surprised himself by actually meaning it.

As Francis left he nodded once more at the bodyguard who he knew had been observing him the whole time and decided a formal introduction might be in order now that he and the bodyguards 'boss' had made each others acquaintance.

"Francis Maranzano of the Galerie Sanguine..." he said, and offered his hand. The gesture was reciprocated. "Tex Cainen. Night Manager of the Vampire Club...and head of security for Mr Melmoth."

It was clear that this was all the conversation he was going to get and to be honest if the positions were reversed he wouldn't have volunteered any more information himself. Besides which he needed to catch up with Thomas.

Scene Twenty Two - Politicking
Miriam Caravaggio - Toreador
Sheriff of San Francisco
Thomas hadn't gotten far before being intercepted by Miriam Caravaggio, Sheriff of San Francisco. She and the Ventrue were standing in a relatively sheltered area on a balcony, by an area not meant for public access containing files and paperwork. As Francis arrived, Miriam had just asked the pertinent question.

"Have you made any progress with your task?"

"Some." replied Thomas as he carefully considered just how much to share. "Unfortunately, our enquiries have led us to believe that one of the Harpies. One might actually say 'The' Harpy, has been encouraging a somewhat unhealthy business practice. Unhealthy to the kindred of this city I mean."

Miriam, paused to consider this. "Rumours are spreading which say as much. But I don't pay that much attention to rumours. One never knows who started them, and what their agenda for doing so was or is..." Thomas wasn't sure whether Miriam knew something specific or was talking generally so tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible as she continued speaking. "However, these rumours, if true, would make Anya's position untenable given her role. It would also show a monumental lack of judgement. I would also need evidence on which to act."

Thomas waited until he was sure the Sheriff had finished before replying.

Sara Anne Winder - Ventrue
Prince of San Francisco
"Evidence we have, but the source isn't exactly in a form I can march in as a witness. I'm also unsure about the correct etiquette for what we have planned. In an Anarch domain, the reaction to such an accusation would certainly involve violence, but that's not the case here, correct?"

Miriam became very serious. "If you raise a hand to anyone within Elysium then I'd be obliged to prevent that in the most efficient way possible..."

"I have no intention of raising my hand to anyone. But what happens if someone raises their hand to us? I presume that you'll be too busy protecting the Prince to leap to the defence of some lowly Anarch?"

For a moment, The Sheriff looked offended and Thomas wasn't sure what he'd said that bothered her.

"I take the role of Sheriff very seriously. Any breaking of the rules of Elysium under my watch, reflects directly on me and my reputation, which I also take very seriously indeed. Who you are is irrelevant to me. The rules are the rules. If a kindred within Elysium attacks you I'll drop them just as hard as I'd drop someone who threatened one of the Primogen or the Prince herself."

She seemed serious to Francis, but Thomas also detected something else. It was the potential damage to her personal reputation that had triggered her. It was obvious that she considered herself superior to other kindred and was eager to prove that if given any opportunity for a physical confrontation. The fact that she was armed also cast some doubt upon 'the 'Rules are the rules' statement. Apparently there were exceptions to even seemingly absolute rules.

Mirko Mirkonen - Gangrel Primogen
All Francis's research led him to believe that 'one on one' Miriam was one of the two most dangerous kindred in the city, though was easily surpassed in age, generation and raw physical power by Mirko Mirkonen, the Gangrel Primogen, who was undoubtedly the most dangerous. 

"So does that mean we have permission to act or not?" asked Francis.

"I'm not even fucking sure." replied Thomas, his frustration evident by the rare use of profanity. "It looks like it's okay to provoke violence, as long as it isn't perceived as intentional, but even then the response is what's important. And despite Miriam's assurances, It most certainly does matter who you are when you do it..."

"Camarilla politics is a fucking minefield of bullshit." summarised Francis. "Every action has three meanings, and the actor doesn't actually mean any of them, then some other poor bastard gets the blame for not guessing what they actually bloody meant..."

His musing was interrupted by an announcement that the Prince was ready for them all.

Scene Twenty Three - New Blood
Suzanne Rochelle - Toreador
Seneschal to Prince Winder
Prince Winder, dressed in a simple yet elegant black dress, approaches the stage accompanied by both her Sheriff Miriam Caravaggio and her Seneschal Suzanne Rochelle. Gustavo, the Scourge is already standing to one side of the raised area and is watching the crowd closely.

"As many of you have no doubt already heard, San Francisco is lacking several roles that are considered necessary in the difficult times in which we currently find ourselves. The first such role is that of Herald..."

There are some murmurs from within the crowd. It is largely expected that the job will be given to Lilliana Swann as her role within Aegis and The Oratory already gives her access to the necessary communication channels. This would also have the added benefit of ingratiating the representative of an expanding and influential organisation to the Prince.

Anya Bloom however had been pushing for the job to be given to one of her close followers Kristi, a Toreador with considerable influence within social media circles.

"...though many fine candidates have been recommended to me, I offer this important role to Miss Lilliana Swann, if she would be willing to take on this burden?"

Thomas observed a brief expression of frustration crossing Anya's face, though the expected look of disappointment didn't show on Kristi's at all. In fact she almost seemed relieved. Lilliana didn't seem particularly happy about the offer either, though definitely wasn't surprised.

Thomas suspected that Sarina had put the Seneschal off Kristi with various hints about her unsuitability, which would have been passed onto the Prince. Though Suzanne probably vetoed her just to get back at Anya.

Kristi and Lilliana - Competing Candidates for 'Herald'

"My thanks..." replied Miss Swann. "...and I accept, though I'm sure you understand that this acceptance must be provisional. I have considerable commitments and those to whom I answer may have...reservations..."

Prince Sara nodded as if in understanding, and both Anarchs got the impression that she was expecting exactly this response. She then replied. "An understandable and reasonable response. We shall consider the role yours, but if you wish to abdicate the responsibility in the future then we will reluctantly look for another candidate."

Neither of the Anarchs knew what to make of this turn of events. Though Anya's disappointment would certainly help their plan, neither knew enough about Lilliana to decide on the long-term implications.

Perry Commons - Brujah
'Shadow' for San Francisco Neonates
After the expected insincere congratulations and commiserations from the crowd, The Prince moved on.

"The position of Shadow, is another of considerable responsibility as those neonates who join together need guidance from their elders so as to ensure their safety in these tumultuous times. Perry Commons, a Brujah who has remained loyal to us despite the actions of others of his clan has agreed to take on this responsibility..."

Almost blended into the corner of the room, was a kindred that in all honesty they didn't even realize was there until others looked in his direction. An inch over six feet tall, he had sandy blonde hair that has just started to recede.

Maximus said something quietly to another nearby kindred that they don't quite catch all of. The only words they picked out were 'White Knight' and 'Lone Ranger'.

The Prince continued.

"Some of you have petitioned for the appointment of a 'Principle of Faith', but I have deemed this unnecessary. There are few kindred religions represented within this city and none that one might consider to be forbidden by Camarilla laws. We also believe that the policing of such things should be managed internally by the appropriate groups. Should their activities become a threat to the traditions, then that becomes a matter for the Sheriff or Scourges..."


"...and on the subject of the Scourge. Zakaria Tate, a newcomer to our city has agreed to serve under Gustavo in order to assist him with hunting down those who transgress against the Camarilla and are therefore a threat to us all. Miriam will, of course, still mete out any punishments that we deem necessary to ensure that others do not misunderstand what is required of them."

Anya seemed to still be upset about her chosen candidate for Herald been ignored in favour of a mere Gangrel and both could see kindred avoiding her gaze lest they become a candidate on which she might take out her frustrations. Though it was more then that. Francis could see something else, an anger bubbling beneath the surface. As someone who was normally in control, the loss of such was clearly not a situation she was used to dealing with.

Scene Twenty Four - Breaking Traditions
Caspian Smith - Brujah
Warrior Philosopher
"On a final note, Sarina has asked for a moment to speak to you all." Prince Winder then stepped back as Sarina approaches the stage with what was quite obviously a covered painting carried for her by Caspian Smith, The Brujah 'Warrior Philosopher' she had pointed out to them at The Hammer night club.

"In thanks for the work Anya has put into preparing yet another perfect venue in which we can meet. We would like to prevent her with a gift...."

Anya lacked some of her usual swagger as she moved towards Sarina, clearly she was still irritated but was covering it up, but barely.

As she approached the stage, Sarina pulled away the cover to reveal the painting produced by Malaki. Immediately Anya dropped any pretence of covering up her anger and to all present it looked as if it was the gift herself that had angered her. She did however seem to be maintaining control, if only by the merest thread. The barest push might easily put her over the edge.

To those present Anya looked to be ungrateful, which surprised those present who knew what a notable artist Malaki was. Others who had heard the spreading rumours, leapt to other conclusions.

"I'd like a moment to speak on the task we were given..." interrupted Thomas. Now was time to see if their carefully orchestrated hatchet job on Anya could be forced to the desired conclusion.

The Six Traditions
The Prince, looked to her Seneschal who spoke on Sara's behalf.

"It is usual for advance notice to be given should one wish to address the Prince, Primogen or gathered kindred at an event such as this. Nonetheless we shall make an exception on this occasion. You have shown a willingness to learn our rules and follow them, so some flexibility on our part would seem to be in order."

There were a some murmurs from the crowd, broadly split between approval and disapproval, but only a minority had responded in any way. Most were sensible enough to not rock the boat over a minor issue, involving a couple of unimportant Anarchs.

Thomas began.

"I apologise if our investigation has been subtle and un-Anarch of us, I assume this has disappointed many here who were expecting fireworks. Anyway..." Thomas carefully gauged the reaction of the crowd. Several did actually look disappointed. If things went as he expected, that was likely to change.

"This cult can be removed, however it seems that other interested parties have been providing Malaki and his followers with a certain measure of protection. I'm sure their intention was not to draw attention to us, perhaps they were blinded by obsession or are merely a sycophantic fan."

'The Evidence'
Those kindred who had paid attention to the rumours were beginning to cast their eyes in Anya's direction.

"...My acquaintance has some other information that is pertinent." He then allowed Francis to elaborate.

"Though Thomas would like to give this individual the benefit of the doubt, I, unfortunately have evidence that shows a more than casual involvement. Several ghouls were keeping an eye on Malaki, and blood sorcery had also been utilised to prevent any interference in his activities. This has likely made the terms 'blood cult' and 'vampire', in association with these cultists, even more profound."

Thomas then walked over to the Seneschal with the documentation, though made a point of pausing by Anya Bloom. "Perhaps Miss Bloom has an explanation? At least with the dismantling of his cult and him hopefully fading into the background, it will make Anya's gifted painting all the more valuable..."

Scene Twenty Five - Frenzy
Anya lashed out with her fingernails, slicing through the air, mere inches from Francis's cheek who had moved between her and Thomas in anticipation of her reaction. Another lunging attack was easily fended off by the Lasombra former mobster, who had faced infinitely more dangerous enemies than this temperamental prima donna.

Zakaria Tate - Gangrel Scourge
As reason left her eyes, and before a second attack could be considered, another kindred barrelled into her and hurled her into one of the basements supporting pillars. Gustavo, Gangrel Scourge, quickly recovered his balance as Zakaria moved to cover his back. The new recruit being forced to act in his new role, far sooner than anyone, especially himself, might have expected.

The new Scourge was also armed, further putting Miriam's assurances about the equality of the rules of Elysium into doubt.

Anya got no chance to move far as Miriam appeared from nowhere, grabbed her by the throat and slammed her back into the pillar, leaving her feet dangling some six inches from the ground. She slashed her fingernails ineffectively against the sheriff's flesh and though Miriam's skin could be seen to crease slightly, there was no penetration.

Francis noticed that where Anya's nails tore into Miriam's outfit a glint of something could be seen below, as if the material of her dress was layered with some kind of protective material.

Miriam turned to her Prince who tapped her own chest in the area of the heart. Without any comment, Miriam produced a hardwood stake and drove it through Anya's heart with such force that it pinned her to the pillar.

"It's just like being back home in L.A." quipped Francis.

The Prince didn't even miss a beat as she spoke over the noisy crowd. Sensibly the gathered kindred fell silent as their ruler spoke.

"It seems that I also need a new Keeper of Elysium..." she turned to Sarina. "...Congratulations, the role is yours..."

For a moment, Thomas thought he saw a look of satisfaction in the expression on the face of the Toreador Seneschal, Suzanne Rochelle. The thought crossed his mind that Sarina had also been manipulated and this scheme had bene carefully orchestrated, not by Sarina, but by Suzanne.

He'd probably never know, and this was probably for the best. It was possible that the strings of the city were been pulled by someone other than the Prince, or the Harpies, and such a person was unlikely to leave loose-ends.

Interlude - The Deep
Vera Vignes - Ventrue
Ventrue Primogen of San Francisco
Vera Vignes and her guardian Henry Waters left the meeting as soon as the drama had finished playing out. As Ventrue Primogen she had been obliged to attend but as she had had no part in any of the appointments, or if the truth be told, any interest in who was appointed to the roles, she considered it to be a waste of her valuable time.

The Lilliana Swann appointment would be useful though. Vera used many of the services of Aegis, or the Oratory as it was now, and it would make any meetings between their organisations less notable. This time however she had required a meeting with Lilliana's bosses, the deal she needed to make was significantly above the pay grade of Miss Swann.

--------------------

"I'm surprised you attended this meeting personally." Vera began. "I thought you'd be upset about the manipulations that occurred due to 'her' machinations."

Storytellers Note - This refers to events in our main chronicle. The start of the story can be found HERE, though the actual session where the 'issue' occurred is HERE. Though if you skip to the second link you'll spoil the actual story for yourself. the choice is yours.

Marius had allowed Lilliana to retain her seat and stood behind her, using her chair as an armrest. It was clear to Vera that she was uncomfortable in the presence of her employer. Marius had that effect on many, but his own clan seemed particularly susceptible.

"I must admit I was curious to see if my agents were correct or if your personalities were still in conflict. Had I been required to make a wager on the victor in such a contest it wouldn't have been Vera. I'm pleasantly surprised to have been mistaken..."

Henry Waters - Ventrue
Presumed Destroyed
Vera smiled and tapped the side of her head. "She's still in here, but I only let her out when I need something unsavoury doing. She shouldn't have hurt Henry, that was a mistake which gave me all the strength I needed to regain complete control of my own mind..."

Marius made no comment at the term 'hurt'. He knew that Vera's other personality had destroyed Henry Waters. Of that there was no doubt. Quite what the kindred stood in the corner of the room had once been was a curiosity to be sure. Flesh-crafting, mental conditioning and perhaps some creative uses of the Ventrue's powers of Domination had evidently been combined to create an idealised version of the deceased Henry. Slightly more rugged, definitely more muscular, a little older too and more interestingly, he clearly believed himself to be the Henry Waters. Of slightly more interest, was that Vera herself seemed to believe that he was the original. Such self delusion said much about what little of the Primogen's sanity still remained.

None of that was as important as the satisfactory outcome of this deal, so he put the thoughts aside.

"I can accomplish all that you require. My organisation knows more than enough about the Second Inquisition's methodology to protect your financial assets and the physical security is simple enough to implement. I'll have plans made available for the havens you require for yourself and...Henry...so you can make any last minute alterations that might suit you."

On the other matter, do you wish your competitors removal to be done subtly? suicides, accidents and the like or would you like a particular message sending?"

Vera smiled once more. "Subtle will be fine. The criminal elements of the docks already know who is in charge. 'Messages' as you call them have already been given to the uncooperative ones. As I stated earlier, 'She' sometimes still comes in useful. However I have an issue with the stated price...though it might be considered slightly excessive, it is within my means...however it will put back other projects and so I wonder if there's something else you might require?"

Marius Walker - Gangrel
Pack Leader of 'The Oratory'
Vera wasn't stupid. Marius Walker, childe of Xaviar and head of The Oratory, didn't drag himself to San Francisco for a simple trade deal. She had made enquiries of her own and knew that Aegis was investing heavily in logistics, though she suspected that some of that was a cover for other schemes.

"Now you mention it..." he replied.

--------------------

"Why on earth does he want those particular companies?" asked Henry. 

It was a good question, but Vera wasn't particularly concerned. The deep ocean salvage companies she'd acquired as part of other dockyard takeovers, had been of no use to her logistics empire. Their equipment had been put into storage and the staff moved to other more immediately useful projects.

"We got the required security projects for half the original price and all it cost us was a spurious sale to Aegis of three companies that we have no need for. The shareholders might quibble a little at us basically giving away seventy-five million dollars worth of businesses, but that's a small price to pay for our personal safety..."

Vera kissed Henry tenderly on the cheek, which he knew was an indicator that she considered the subject closed "Be a dear and fetch the car will you?"


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Storytellers Conclusions
I sometimes like to do a round-up of how the session went in these features but if you couldn't give a shit what I think then feel free to skip this bit....

We'll be leaving San Francisco for a while and returning to our main chronicle, but we'll be back at some point.

Sometimes the players will come up with a plan that is nothing like you expected. The key is, in my opinion at least, to go with it. Especially if it's better than what you had planned, or is something they're very excited about. Plot twists are part and parcel of the World of Darkness, and I'm not advocating making it easy for them as life as a vampire is meant to be problematic, but...

Adapting their plan into your overall scheme and at least giving it a chance to be implemented will result in players who are invested in your chronicle and the world you created and that's great for them and for you.

Song Lyrics
Also, The quote in the header is from the following song on the off-chance any-one is interested.


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Further Acknowledgements
Portions of the materials are the copyrights and trademarks of White Wolf Entertainment AB, and are used with permission. All rights reserved.

I've used pictures of real people to represent some of the characters and art for others so in no particular order Thomas Caldwell is Oscar Isaac, Francis Maranzano is a young Al Pacino, 'The Beggar' is Jason Mantzoukas, Maximus Sun is Ye Liu, Anya Bloom is Zendaya, Vannevar Thomas is Bryan DeChart, Kristi Pittman is Thora Birch, Sarina Harrington is Joan Smalls, Lilliana Swann is Liv Tyler, Roland Stolzfus is Alex Petteyfer, William Butler is Dolph Lundgren, 'Daphne' is Jemima Kirke, Tex Cainen is Sam Elliot, Oscar Wilde was Stephen Fry, Sebastain Melmoth is Stephen Fry, Miriam Caravaggio is Sasha Luss, Sara Anne Winder is Saoirse Ronan, Mirko Mirkonen is Nathan Jones, Suzanne Rochelle is Amelia Rose Blaire, Perry Commons is Owen Wilson, Caspian Smith is Chad Michael Murray, Zakaria Tate is Noah Centineo, Vera Vignes is Helen Mirran, Henry Waters is Henry Cavill and Marius Walker is Tony Curran.

Everything else is from vampire related folders and searches and is as far as I know is all of the 'fair use' variety. If there's something that you feel should be attributed to some-one then feel free to let me know and I'll happily add an acknowledgement.

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