The night is warm and inviting as Maddoc pushes his way north. He seems to ignore the people he passes, and they happily reciprocate. It is not long before he nears his destination; the point marked on Montefiore's scroll that should indicate the presence of a node, nestled incongruously in the down...

Bullet dodged. Nice, man, nice.

The following night, Maddoc wakes. -1 Vitae There’s no sleepy-yawn , no blurry squint-eyed glare. One moment he is unconscious; the next he’s awake. He reaches immediately for the small glass pipe beside the mattress, only to find it cracked and empty. A wince of pain crosses his face... Wait, is th...

Sorry to here about your potentially lost alien world, Loremaster. That sucks. I'd sh*% myself if everything on my hard drive went tits-up. Seems we'll be in hiatus for awhile, with fingers crossed that we get going again, maybe in another city, you say? Hmm... Anyway, if this is it, let me say than...

Maddoc winds his way home, to the Slums. Yesterday's paper blown down the street has more purpose to it, yet he finds shelter before the dawn rises. Again. Flat on his back, his ruined clothes adding to stained mattress, Maddoc stares at the ceiling of the windowless room, his eyes twitching as if i...

"Every dog has his leash, see Jimmy? Woof!" Maddoc barks at Rupert's retreating back. Mind you, it's just as well the chase was called off when it was - Maddoc's bent over double. He looks exhausted. Or does he? As usual, there is something false about Maddoc's performance. He mimes at bei...

Dread Poet Jethro wrote: ...We believe he believes...

"We", O Poet Dread?
A collective of Jethros?
A Haiku Hive Mind?

Reaching the end of the alley, Maddoc turns sharply back onto Layton Street, heading away from the front entrance of the Review.

Racing down the alley, running past piles of trash and empty syringes, Maddoc and James reach a T-junction. To the left, the alley leads to an open door. To the right, a lengthy lane filled with trash. The bouncers sprint along the alley, gaining ground. "Luck, Jimmy!" Maddoc calls, veeri...

It's his dress sense, I like. Frosty.

The door flies open and Maddoc and James step out into a very narrow and tall alley. Trash and excrement cover almost all of the surface, and piles of wooden crates lean precariously against graffiti-covered walls and windows. The stench of urine and vomit is strong here. Ahead, a door is open and ...

Crashing into the door, Maddoc pushes at the quick release bar, fear lending strength to his arm.

Maddoc stumbles along in Jimmy's wake, pressing through the club in search of an exit. Musty alcoves, private rooms and secluded booths are scattered throughout the club; spaces designed for private enjoyment of the experiences on offer at the Review. These semi-lit areas make a maze of the club to ...

Maddoc snuffles at the blood like a pig, smearing vermilion across his cheeks, forehead and nose in his eagerness. With surprising speed, he follows the trail back to it's point of origin near Rupert's feet. There are droplets of ruby on Rupert's shoes and the cuffs of his pants; no doubt they fell ...

An unstrung puppet, the unconscious woman does not react as the archaically dressed vampire kicks her. The force of the blow propels her into Maddoc’s shin, and still she shows no reaction. But Maddoc does. He squats, lifting the woman’s head with one hand, like a chalise. He brushes the hair from h...

Maddoc cringes like a whipped dog, half-raising one arm as if to ward off a blow. But the immediacy of the woman's blood, the scent of it, won't let him go. Maddoc starts babbling, pleading. "Hey, c'mon man, just one taste is all I need, just a little taste, okay, then I can get back to finding...

The group turn around to face, and the figure in the centre stares at Maddoc with a strange look on his lean face. One of the Kindred steps forward, seeing how he looks at the blood. "What do you want, neonate?" He says with a sneer. Maddoc stops, his jacket slides from his shoulder and h...

The room is aglow to Maddoc, filled with colour and form. He halts, perhaps frozen by the sight. He spends a minute, apparently fascinated by the view of his own hand. Then he comes into focus, and a darker hunger fills his gaze. Alive with possibility, he moves towards the tight nit group of beings...

Meantime, Maddoc heads for the bathroom. (Do you really want to follow him in there? We all know what he'll be doing; fucking junkie.) He emerges shortly, his velour jacket swung jauntily from one scrawny shoulder, a smile full of confidences spread across his face. Guess that jacket's sleeves were ...

Maddoc pauses, he licks his lips. "Yeah, what am I on?" he says, itching the inside of an elbow. Despite his finery, he looks sunken, pallid. But watch his eyes, and you can almost see the calculations. "Where are the toilets, man?" he asks the patron, his eyes flicking from the ...