Tales of Past Glories. Very Past.

Who am I?

Where to begin...really it's been awhile, and I find myself having trouble keeping my thoughts together. It's really, kind of like diablerie, but without the advanced generation.

I suppose some catching up is in order. Going back in time twice doesn't happen every day, after all. I mean I'm me, but I'm also a member of the Syndicate circa 1933 (Commodore 64 days.. Man I coulda been something.) and a Turkish trick rider in the current year of 1094.

Things seem different, frankly. Like...the group isn't so much a group. The ones I remember as Brian-Eadwulf and Brenda-Godiva...frankly scare me. Like there's a whole level of creepy where they live, and I'm not sure we can accomplish goals with them. Cassandra is...somehow my sister, Songul, and I'm oddly protective. Call it the older brother complex. Having been an older brother at least once, and even some dim memories of being mad because her husband...took a concubine without permission? Something. Either way, I was rather put out when Rambert tried to put moves on her and I surprised all of us by finding my sword in my hand and having it pointed rather pointedly as his manly bits.

Anyway. My name, or at least the name I have now, is Cengiz. Pretty common where I was born in...Denver, 990 years in the future. Okay, maybe not. But in this day and age, Cengiz is somewhat common because Ghengis Khan is still 100 years from becoming the shit-wrecking Mongol on the steppes. This is difficult, remembering historical touchstones that haven't happened yet. Shit, we're still a year and a half from the first crusade. Which makes my advanced science a rather difficult thing, even my 1933 hyperscience is very difficult to perform due to the vagaries of the collective will making such things an impossibility, despite them being Science.

Curiously, I've been in the pageant as a rider for 40 years; something about having been sold to them to erase a debt. Thanks for nothing (again) Pop. My sister reads fortunes, I shoot arrows and do backflips and such from the back of my horse Malik-Adham (The Black King). When I'm not doing that, I'm helping with the animals in the pageant, since I can talk to them. Or at least I can make them understand me. It's not exactly genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, but it pays the bills.

The pageant is taking on a few new people when we leave, like always. Eadwulf, his wife, and Godiva and her, well, boytoy, I guess. I mean, really it's probably the only chance they'll ever have in their lives to travel, and since they're going to live for awhile, it's pretty much a good idea. Plus, I mean how exactly are you going to change the world by living in a peasant village of 150? But to the interesting stuff. Apparently Goodwife Eadwulf (Sunnigfu) was defiled as a young lady, and other ladies of her age kept it hidden because the defiling one was the local priest, who promised good husbands in exchange for their silence on the matter. Sunnigfu didn't think that was exactly right, so she came to the Pageant for an object to exact revenge. Annnnd she did. Boy howdy did she. Somehow she turned into a wolf as big as my horse, and then made an example of the ladies by kinnnnda sorta shredding them from the waist down. Really gory, and there were a few times during the adventure when my Toreadors' soul was enthralled by the spectacle. If revenge could be an art, what an artisan she would be. That said, I think I'm going to avoid her for a month or so, given that I shot 4 arrows at her and hit twice. The whole thing was a weirdness, since Godiva did something she never does and saved peoples' lives. I approve, but when an act of kindness is something out of place, is this someone you can really trust?

But enough of that for now, I suppose. I'll expand on this more as we travel to our next destination, and I find myself looking for answers to some of the simplest philosophical questions; who am I, what next. And are we in that old Ben Bova novel Orion, going back in time to prevent future horrors? Too many questions and not enough Guinness. Note to self, invent Guinness.

We Three Kings

I hereby call this meeting of the three jokers to order. Myself, Cengiz, and Seppel. Sepp, you're the one with the punchable face, you take the minutes. Cengiz, I'd kinda like to apologize for moving in, but it's a weird trick of, well, magic. Sepp can tell you more about it when he's done whining about how I shot him in the ass.

Think nothing of it. As I recall, I was dying.

Herr...Jason. I must protest; you are and were a Reality Deviant. Despite this mockery, the path is clear; the Precepts of Damian clearly state that Reality Deviants must be destroyed. We were simply going to take you off the street, vivisect you, see what knowledge of temporal mechanics we could learn and then destroy you. You should be ashamed of yourself.

Reality Deviant, says the guy with the titanium legs. First, I know what you were planning to do, even before I shot you. One does not bring a T-1000 to extend an engraved invitation to tea. Second, we have a lot of time ahead of us to bitch and snipe at each other, you're just gonna have to deal. Third, we're kinda in a little peril, so if you could stow it for a bit we gotta figure out what's up with Paderborn.

I'm back!

So, not gonna lie. It's been hectic of late. Traveling in the 11th century is what we could politely call 'a stone cold bitch', but that doesn't quite encapsulate the utter misery of it. The logistics are simple, but with the pageant it's a problem. Generally. Anyway, currently we're in Augsburg- and all hell has broken loose. Short version, multi-faction war to decide who's gonna lead this place, the merchant class is finally waking up to the fact that the nobility sees them as well-dressed peasants, and did I mention there's a couple Methuselahs in town for Round gods-only-know in a pissing match that's gone unabated for millennia?

Right then. Best thing about Nuremberg? Cold beer. They had it. Legit cold beer. I couldn't even bitch about it being a wheat beer, it was beer and it was cold. Me and Songul had a couple, and then some other things happened, I think we were getting drafted into some merchant mages guild - but events intervened and that's a no-go. So after that, I bought some things with my hard-earned coinage, and we went to a joust.

It wasn't the worst thing in the world, and I made a few gold with the bookies, and things were going pretty well, and then I saw Eadwulf head over to a guy who was, well...apparently a handsome lad. Upon further inspection, it was Prius. Aka Helena-the-toreador-methuselah's ghoul. (yes I have his game card showing all his wins, losses, kills-before-weapon-break averages, army K/D ratios but I am not a fanboy. We all get them. I just memorized mine.) If he's in town, that means Helena's in town. Oh sweet happy day, I am gonna get a shortcut to the big time. After dusk, me and the rest of the Four Horsemen chirping the jousters left and right, because their horses are crap, and I see Helena. Because I've been looking for her and hell yes. Trying to locate Arikel through Helena was not happening, so I had to get closer.

In retrospect, it wasn't the worst Embrace I've ever had. It's awkward that I can say that, but true. But I walked up to Helena and after a longass moment of staring into the face of a goddess, spit some Shakespearean sonnet action. I mean, okay, it wasn't the best recitation, but damn I was a little flat-footed. Which I suppose she approved, as when I was done I was trying very hard to think to her that I'd like to have a bit more time to discuss things, but it earned me a grab and rush into darkness.

I woke up with a dozen other guys, and a few other things for breakfast. I was tame, as it were, but my new brothers weren't as cautious. So with that out of the way, Helena arrived and told us to follow. So we did, I mean who wouldn't right? We went forth to a stormy night, with what almost sounded like a young war in the distance. We were told to advance, and I got a sinking feeling hadn't had for some time. We were a mass embrace of newly minted 5th generation Toreador. Theoretically we have no idea what's coming and the blood we were given was pitiful compared to what we needed. Shit is about to go sideways, and whoever we're going up against is probably enough to take out at least half of us without breathing hard. Yeah Helena, not my first rodeo. Now looking forward is some guy and Songul, and yeah, all hell broke loose. Job one was to get Songul the hell out of the way, because I heard her heart beating. Fast. So I kicked in the afterburners for the first time in awhile as a cloud of obtenebration blanketed the area and while I was cool, Songul was choking to death.

Oh look. Shit has gone sideways. I tried to snag Songul before she died, but there was some scary shit standing next to Songul and my feet carried me right the hell out of the cloud. It was about to get messy, with obtenebration cloaking vampiric chaos...and then Astarte had apparently had enough of the undead bullshit. She literally buried all of us. Part of me wishes I could have gotten to know her, but...maybe I'll get another chance to apologize for my part in the ruckus.

Anyway, I woke up the next night, Augsburg is a fighting zone, Helena's nowhere to be found, and I've got a pretty good number of brand-spanking-new powerful-ass vampires on my hands. No idea where anyone other than me is, and my Auspex is not beefy enough to find out. One would think that after spitting love verse that won't be invented for 6 centuries, I'd at least get some dancing before I got a kiss followed by dinner and the shaft. But anyway, back to more important things. My new brothers got Abbreviated Vampire 101, and well...they're gonna have to deal with their conditions as best they can. Hopefully the devil looks after his own, because I sure as hell can't in the middle of all this. Hopefully I'll be able to link up with some of my compatriots and head south, because in theory the pageant was heading to Rome, and I'm gonna have to steal, beg, borrow and get there rapidly. I need clean underwear.

Winter came.

So I'm glossing over a few things, however, here's the high points before I delve deep into the narrative. So Cengiz by itself isn't great when you're hanging out with nobility, and some digging through the memory hole pulled up Pasha as a surname/title from the Ottoman Empire, so that's close enough. Annoyingly, I'm gonna have to find some spare change so that I can actually get a decent outfit or five, but I think I'm going to have some time to do that.

So waking up, there's some shenanigans afoot; just a feeling. I go hang out with Burkhart and Alard, and Alard seems nervy; he scoots without really saying much and I'm shadowing his ass, because if there's one thing neonates love to do, it's get in trouble. I say this without a hint of irony on account of I've got 4 centuries of relative undeadness under my belt, whereas these two are still discovering how awesome and depressing some of this is. Trail Alard to a brothel which is weird in and of itself, since Al's usually not shy about hitting up the ladies of the night. Fun times, and I even met up with Eadwulf real quick for a confab and "This is weird"; we creep up the stairs and there's voices arguing. Nudge the door open and there's Al with his brother and a guy from the western alliance. Can't really place his name but Al's cheesed off; in the few seconds I put together the pieces of the crap - Big Brother is going to flip the house to the Western Alliance, Al's having none of it, and the dude from the west is a friggin wizard. I discovered this when he chanted a bit and the sun came up.

Ouch.

Al had a worse time of it, but I blitzed through the sun (Screw you gandalf) and tackled Al out a window. More dings ensued, but Alard got an object lesson in Healing Nasty Damage. Which sucked, but hey, whatcha gonna do. We heal up, advise and then decide we need to get the head of the house involved. Haul ass to the family manse, and wow were we late - the troops of Big Brother were staging a coup of sorts. So we warned the fighting factions that the eastern alliance was riding hard and fast, the traitorous bastards. Having sorted out those guys, Eadwulf, me and Alard got our asses up to the top tower where Adeline of Berengar (Big Brothers' bride-to be) was weeping over the near-corpse of Alard of Katze. Apparently Big Brother was trying to legitimize his shenanigans by taking over the barony via untimely death. Alard was having none of it, but I was able to grab the brothers' arm to try and keep him in the high tower.

I was able to keep the arm in the tower, but Alard kinda-sorta jacked his strength and tossed Big rother out the window, and well, physics was a bit too much for that particular shoulder. Good news, no need to dig a hole when they bury him. Well, they might, but that's another story. The rest of that night was dmaage control with Eadwulf dominating the shit out of everyone and me engaging in cleanup and spin control. Great times.

Next night, the funeral wake for Big Brother will be promptly followed by the wedding of Alard to Adeline. And Alard is a woeful husband, wailing on about his lost humanity as soon as he woke up, and how he'll never be able to have children and just so much whining. Alard has always had a punchable face, and damn was he not helping his "don't punch me in the face" cause. Laid it out, explained things, and through a combination of asskicking and gentle brotherly sympathy, I was able to get his ass together enough to dress and prepare to comport himself. I swear I may be Lestat to his Louis. (If he's still whining in 1990, I am legit punching him.)

Off to the family manse again, jiggity jog. Two swords because damn it's gonna get messy and I am wanting to be prepared. I even enchanted my sword, just in case. Leave Alard in his chambers, check out the chapel for exits (minimal, we're going through the window if it comes to it) and secure a rope in the bastion, just in case escape plan A goes awry. Also of note, there were freaking roses everywhere. Seriously unnerving because there's a lot of symbolism there. I even touched one and saw Prius. That's...great. Helens' still around and singing her own damn song. It was great fun, until I got back to Alards room and found him unconscious with a dagger in his chest. If I recall correctly, on the wedding night the stabbing is supposed to be metaphorical and done by the husband and not to. (I mean there are exceptions if you're into that sorta thing, but I'm certainly in no place to judge.) I told my other brother Burkhart to go get Godiva, because she can fix this. And then the lights went out. All of them. As pretty much the entire wedding in the manse starts dying. Slowly. This is so not how this night was supposed to turn out. There was only supposed to be one dead guy at the wedding, not...several hundred. And there's a few minutes while I wait for the ambush on my ass, and I notice it feels like Songuls' watching. Good times, so I showed off a little with the lightsaber (Okay, enchanted sword, stop quibbling) and finally got off my own ass to find out more what the fuck, and also find the lovely bride. Which was interrupted by some rude bastards who wanted me staked and secured. That took a few minutes of my time, while sorting their asses out and trying to explain to them that it was a Bad Idea. They legit fricking teleported out. Assholes.

Meanwhile, Adelines' hared off with the youngest of the Katze family down a secret exit and while said youngest is certainly handsome, he ain't me. So me and Eadwulf chase and get ourselves...stuck behind a wall. Apparently it's there to keep the supernatural from crossing. So, in an act of frustration, I zapped the retreating brother with a little taser-bolt. Uhm. Yeah, that's pretty new, honestly. Maybe some new thaumaturgical path, but still. Homeboy was walking funny. I think the wizard and I are gonna have a loooonnnng talk when we get a chance. But first, get out of this god-forsaken abbatoir and begin plans to counterstrike.

This town ain't big enough.

So out of the slaughterhouse, and back into the open air. Good news. Bad news, life sucks something fierce. Meneleus was having a neonate moment or something, kinda like Katze was before he caught a bad case of Dagger to the Chest. The Katzenberengar Kidz slung over my shoulders did not improve my mood entirely. Then Meneleus took his emotions out for a ride, and the rest of us went along for the ride. To my credit, I did try to clear the blast zone, buuuut it didn't work. I was intensely sad. Not sad, morose. I had bloody tears, and my favorite Godiva was doing a damn fine impression of a wailing widow for a bit. Then the tune changed and we were whipsawed into anger. (Odd observation - the only one utterly stoic in this was Eadwulf. Goddamn Ventrue.) The coherent thought was I needed a horse so I grabbed a plowhorse and threw the boys on it to make for Augsburg and hole up until the Methuselean hissyfit passed.

Pretty good plan, in hindsight. However, Methuselean hissyfits have a blast radius that far outpaced the horse, and I really only remember thinking I needed some blood and look, there's a horse just full of blood right there.

So I don't remember much of the rest of the trip, just the my brothers were slowing me down and like all dead weight they kinda had to go. From there it's a blur of destruction and whatnot. The Beast was kinda driving, and having a grand old time. When I finally wrestled the wheel back I was looking at the head of a wizard that I had recently done a SubZero Fatality (Forward, down, forward, high punch) to, and the onlookers were not exactly applauding my performance. To be fair, this this is not the sort of thing that normally happens in a cathedral. I remember this one, and he was...well, he started it. As the ancient Tibetan philosopher said, "Don't start nuthin', won't be nuthin'." And because this was an act that required a momento, I did in fact hang his head from my belt. (Note to self; don't tell Eadwulf. He'll try and convert me to his weird Viking ways.) I'mma make a goblet from his skull. Realization, and memory of what this guy had done to earn that came back, and well...I didn't feel particularly guilty - but someone was going to have to clean up. I tossed a couple coins to the bar as it were, apologized for the mess, and went out to see...a ton of soldiers coming out of the Bishops' residence like it was some kind of clown car. Even had cavalry ducking their heads.

This is a spectacle that requires a moments' consideration.

And further evaluation, in fact. Bonus of being Helenas' childe, physical work is an easy thing. up and perched on the top of the cathedral was a little work, and then back and around and a window was found. Very quickly, I was able to get myself a place to see where they were coming from, and they were exiting from the Bishops' hugely expensive mirror. A lot of them. And only one of me. So I did a thing that would easily be considered tactically unsound save for the fact that I am occasionally badass and armed with weapons of badassitude. I pulled out my still enchanted-sword (the lightsaber noise was only in my head) and dropped onto the mirror. Feet-first, I'm not a complete fool. Kicked the mirror and then shattered it hard with the sword. Which, I mean, the mirror portal went boom, but I kinda had to expect that. Even though I kinda did, I got my bell rung hard. We were all mashed up against the door but I was able to snap up and back off a bit with some speed healing, and offered the 50 men in the room with me the chance to lay down their arms, go across the street, and take sanctuary in the church. I may have forgotten to tell them about the remains of their wizard in the front door. But they did take me up on the offer, and they even left me a horse so that I could top off. It may have helped that I was from their point of view a blood drenched demon with a sword of green fire. (Side note, horse is goddamn nasty, but it'll do.)

After that, it was just a matter of finding my brethren and getting them to safety in the townhouse. Easier said then done for the most part, as I cut a rather dashing figure through the streets of Augsburg. Either everyone saw that I was a man on a mission that was not going to be denied and gave me passage, or nobody wanted to fuck with a bloody demon with a magic sword. Now I know what it's like to be Fezzik, and it's kinda neat. At least until I ran up against another wizard. (Goddamn but wizards are annoying.) He whipped something purple at me, I ducked, and then made for the portcullis. Rolled out of Augsburg proper pretty quickly, and behind me - wyvern. An Amethyst wyvern. So that's where that D&D shit came from. Apparently the gods think I need more excitement in my life. Time to haul ass, because of all the weird shit that's going on tonight, this may be up in the top tier. So I got myself fight ready, unpacked the lightning from earlier and chucked it not out of frustration, but out of "I meant to do that". The Wyvern didn't like it much. So it landed and we got serious about killing each other. Started with my longknife, extinguished the last of the enchantment on the wyvern, and then weird shit occurred as a little kid came in and tried stabbing the frickin thing with a spear. Full marks for bravery, but brains? Not so much. I was able to dispatch the thing quickly and found the kid with a quick what the hell is going on - he was apparently a freshly orphaned kid, and...well, shit. I guess a nobleman like me does need a squire, and he just volunteered. Job one, find the brethren. Which took some time and backtracking but hey. Got it done. And I got a message from Marconius, advising me to arrive at his place.

So with that, we hit the bricks back to Augsburg; the fighting was dying down, literally, but we were able to find Marconius' place. I gave the butler the head, told him to get it to Godiva, and I got a bath and some new clothes. It was pretty much agreed upon that we should be elsewhere, and Rome is a damn fine place to be. So I was freshly attired in black velvet and we set out taking a Lasombra Back Road.

Side question - the Lasombra do know there are other colors, right? I mean I get that black is their thing, but damn. Purple, red, maybe even blue? I mean all black is nice when appropriate, but damn. 24/7/265 black gets old. I shouldn't complain too much, because after a bit of a walk, we were in Rome.

And it's naptime. Once we wake up, we can get the Katzenberger fellas up and going, and then meet and greet. I may need some better clothes, though.

Enter, Rome.

So, having looked at everything, and gotten settled in the Princes' palace (note to self, "augustus" is the proper term) And kinda gotten a feel for the joint (Note to self 2, teach these godless Italians Italian) I was able to get a quick look at my new charge. Unfortunately, he may have had a rougher day then me, so he just sacked the hell out as soon as he sat down. On to side project 1, refinishing a dead noggin. I mean the skin and all that came away nicely enough, but at the same time, there was a brain to deal with. Off to Godiva, where I got skullcap 101, and then settled the rest in a vat of vinegar to cleanse it. Eventually, it's gonna be good, but right now I'm straight suffering for art. Next night, time to establish some digs. Talking to the Augustus was pretyt quick, and there were a few plces I looked at, but I eventually settled on the Transtiberum area. One oath of fealty ans some whoooo-mama good blood from Augustus and I was set. Eadwulf had some adventures, and was heading that way, so we left the palace complex and went to pick up some dead bodies.

Fun can be had, and I swear I am gonna do the tourist thing; but at the same time being a tourist is something you shouldn't do while packing 3 or 4 dead bodies in a cart. There's still statues at the Colosseum, I may want to make a deal to snag a couple of those for my haven. But that can happen later. For now, stuff needs to happen. Looking around and eventually found some interesting things in my new domain.

First off, my area is...blue collar-bordering on the project. But it is very dock-heavy, with some serious industry and labor. I can make this work. The problem is it's also attracting the riff-raff. Not good. I may have to do something about that.

Second issue, shenanigans are approaching; I discovered this while we were hauling bodies. Apparently the memo didn't get passed around that the turf was claimed, and someone purporting to be the sheriff said I needed to clear out. I refused on account of I Just Paid For This. A discussion ensued, and while it wasn't the fastest beatdown I'd ever received, it was definitely top 5. I woke up to Eadwulf slapping me around a little, and then we had to get back at it. Also, there's someone called the rat king who's apparently not a fan of the ruling party or something, and he mostly saved our asses. Good, because I didn't want to kill or die on my second night in Rome. Kinda puts a damper on sightseeing, for the moment at least.

So with that, back to the palace to advise and request confirmation of my new status, because damn.

Ruffians I say.

So With Katze and Berengar still safely in their crates, other stuff needed to be attended to. To wit, that there be festivities to be held in our honor, as we are all of a relatively notable lineage. Songul doesn't really want to go into what happened with her pops, which I mean I'm not gonna complain about it. Maybe next year.

Also, second order of business, housing. Everyones' getting digs in the transtiber, go fig. As long as we can mutually support when shit hits and ride out the next century-ish, we're good. So Godiva is taking over Ceasers' gardens (Good choice) and I'm taking over a currently lived-in location, the Villa Clodia. Fortunately, the lord of the manor is a merchant of cloth, which I totally need. Time for the good clothes, and I may find a few statues for my foyer. And I'll need to paint them.

The next night was rather disappointing overall. We did have to track some things down about the mugging/message interception that Eadwulf stumbled upon, so we rented horses and set out for the monastery that presumably held his body so that Godiva could defile the holy man. (Well, work her art upon. Defile is an ugly word.) About halfway there, we got jumped. Flaming arrows inbound, and good times were had by all. My electrified sword did good work, Eadwulf took on about half of them (let's not kid ourselves, he's a viking blood wizard, and they cheat), and in the midst of it all I recalled some trivia that early monasteries did support themselves through banditry. Which may explain the Crusades in some small part, but I digress. My Auspex wasn't awesome, but it saw enough that there were 4 more - I do miss the days when I didn't have to shout this information. We made short work of them, and Songul lost her horse somehow. Though she did acquit herself well as the sister of Cengiz the Master Horseman (Or as the Romans now know me Archippus Tiberum.)

All that done, we made a rather ninja-esque assault on the place, since we didn't want the monks roused by the folks who's just kicked their personal bandits' asses, and shit just kept getting weirder. Damnable things. But it passed, and we gave the guy a nice burial. Well, quick anyway. Still, a nagging creepy feeling stayed with me all the way up until we got to the palace of the Augustus. Interestingly, the dead monk was carrying a letter to Achard the Ventrue. Contents of which were intriguing, basically guidance on how to best play the Augustus, for lack of a better term. Because wellllll...at this point, it could get interesting, rapidly.

With that in mind, I have a curious thought that I'm going to have to massage around the brainpan a bit. I have a family in the house, that will eventually need to be subsumed or evicted. They're cloth merchants, and so I can certainly see them as useful It's going to require time, but I think I may want to turn them into ghouls, perhaps even a revenant family? Although I may have to be careful with my considerations, they do seem like they could be useful. I think some visits to the wine cellars are in order soon.

Roman Festival Nights

So, the next few nights were busy. My erstwhile brothers Alard and Burkhart woke up and wrecked the livestock, and I kept my squire squiring. Then hunting, reacquainting themselves with all the latest news and Rome happening, and a festival happening shortly. Clothes, check. Funding, check. And I'm muscling in on some other turf, as my taking over the smuggling in the docks and the docks proper is gonna raise eyebrows. It's the Yakuza in Rio all over again. My noble brothers had some qualms about a shakedown, but their precarious financial state was made clear. Meanwhile, I've nicely gotten into the good graces of the family I'm sharing a villa with - ghouling the patriarch is step one; and then we'll go from there and see about possibly getting some revenants going. A hint to invest in sailcloth, and we'll be well and truly setting our financial stability. Check and check. Meanwhile, the transtiberum is well overcrowded at this point. When my brothers were luggage, not a problem. Now that they're up and about and noble...an issue of economy presents itself. I may have to send them to Constantinople or even the Holy Lands, or if they choose to stay, they can assist in encouraging others to find a new home.

Then came the first night of the festival of our entry. I and my brothers were fashionably attired, and presented ourselves to Constantius, and I was very much effusive in praise. The co-caeser Achard who had his little puppy come at me and wreck my night? Ehhhh, not so much. And there was a slight delight as my brothers gave a similar slight. Achard was pissed, but in fairness, he was the one who let Radobod off the leash. So I got that going for me.

Then I finally got to catch up With Songul, who gave me a little warning about the blood chalice behind Door Number Two. It's nice that she worries about me, and we had a nice moment of sibling rivalry back and forth, and then Burkhart sidled in and offered to dance with Songul. Him I trust to dance with my sister and I hope he knows that's a big deal. Me and Alard retired to have a drink, and Songul wasn't lying. It was good, and Alard has not a lot of control. He was two up on me in a heartbeat, and I finally intervened to learn to savor. Which was good.

After that, a little move over to an architect with scale models of his works. It was unholy good craftsmanship for the age, and I found myself quite lost in it. Too lost, apparently, as I caught an elbow and was brought back. The damn thing was beautiful and I was in it. I may have to circle back to this, and then look to find some statues from the Colosseum. But that can wait for...probably winter.

But I digress. a page came around and whispered something urgent into Constantius' ear, and I shamelessly eavesdropped and found out the the senior Ventrue senator was in deep shit - his house was burning down. That's a bad thing. So, I circulated, spread the news, and the whole crew went to see what the heck was what. It wasn't pretty, but with some work we found the escape hatch and that it had collapsed. Songul decided to put a prompt beatdown on the rocks...and won. Brujah are scary sometimes, but that's another story. The senator was effusive in his praise, and daaamn did he never miss meals when he was eating food. We got back to the palace in quick order, and well...there's gonna be some discussion after I checked the rock and apparently the one who wrecked the escape route was the senators' vampiric brother. I'mma let Eadwulf deal with that. It's a Ventrue pissing match at this point, which means it's not my problem until it becomes my problem. I got my own cleanups to deal with, and there's several more nights of festivities afoot. I'm thinking orange and blue for my "night".