Vampire: The Requiem - Lordenshaw Opera House (Elysium)

[Loredoctor]

"My name is Terrance. Terrance Stevenson. Look, I cannot be seen talking to you, not the least because I am Callidia's ghoul . . . uh, servant. Because you have broken etiquette at Elysium."

He leaned forward before continuing. "My advice to you, James . . . uh, Jimmy, is to keep your head down low. You are lucky that the Hierophant was not here when you crapped on before. Chances are you would banished from the city. Stay low tonight or the mistress of elysium will have a private chat to her."

[James Randel]

"Thanks for the advice man. I'll leave you be so you don't get in the shit."

James strolled into the corner and leant on a wall, consumed with his own thoughts and looking around the room at all the people. He had so much shit he would need to learn. The last few weeks had been enough and now this. He would kill for a bottle of bourbon.

[Loredoctor]

More people were arriving through the silver doors, and the foyer was becoming cramped. James estimated that there ws over a hundred people in the chamber. Not one of them held a drink or food, and no waiters could be seen carrying trays. The level of noise rose as people tried to speak over the general chatter, which only increased the volume. He could make out some talk.

"I would have thought that the Lancea Sanctum declined the invitation." "Nonsense, even the sanctified love these occasions."

"Dans la mesure où je sais, Raskshasa est un mythe. Il semblerait être du non-sens religieux oriental que les immigrés ont apporté plus d'avec eux. Non-sens, si vous me demandez."

"Look at her, lording her exclusive club over us. Fuck it."

"Did you hear that there have been a lot of unaligned arriving in the city? Sycthia must be shitting blood over that news!"

"There is no moral equivalence, good sir. And don't you mention that appeal to authority argument to me; I knew Lord Chasely when I was a mortal and know better than anyone else what he was arguing."

"Ley lines?"

"Darling, you look gorgeous."

[James Randel]

Looking around, James heard alot of chatter. Alot of it didnt make much sense, some of it was promising. It sounded as if some people were just as pissed as he was by the lords and ladies attitudes some of these people had. But more importantly there seemed to be a few ladies about.

James sighed. He didnt know what he was any more. Once he had been the mighty James Randel, loved and loathed by so many. Now he was just some loud new guy. This wasn't his crowd. Not his people. He started wondering aimlessly around the room, just going where his feet took him, alone and quiet.

[Jonathan Belmont]

Pyotr scratched his scruffy beard and seemed to stare through Mina and Jonathan, glancing into infinity. Mina coughed politely, and the Idealist looked as though recalling where he was. "Ah, Mina. Jonathan, a pleasure to finally meet you. My apologies, I was just recalling Sofya Yanovskaya's work; I thought discussing her contributions with the Prince or Callidia, specifically women's contributions to Marxism, might be fruitful. Fruitful, sycophantic or dangerous, given 'our queen's' distaste of the common cause." He smiled sadly.

Pyotr then held a hand out to Jonathan. "Brother, welcome."

Jonathan took the outstretched hand and shook it firmly. "Pyotr, the pleasure is mine."

"Pyotr", Mina chided gently as she leaned forward and kissed the gaunt man briefly on the cheek. "What are you doing standing here on your own. This is a party, remember?"

The Carthian's laugh was surprisingly hearty, given his frail appearance. "My dear, I would have to put on quite a show to gain the attention of those in my own Covenant, never mind anyone else."

The three looked over at the rest of the Carthian Movement of Lordenshaw City, clustered around Roland Powell. "Ah yes, I noticed our friend when we arrived", Jonathan turned back to Pyotr. "I thought he would have been busy meeting all these new unaligned Kindred that seem to have appeared in the last month or so."

"Well yes, that is his general modus operandi", Pyotr replied. "As it turns out, some things are more important."

"Basking in adoration?" Jonathan sighed. "And Guttermouth calls Scythia a princess."

Chuckling again, Pyotr disregarded his rival. "Have you ever read any of Sofya Yanovskaya's work?" he asked. "She really was a true visionary, and so much of what she wrote would be appropriate for our fair City."

Back-peddling through the conversation in his mind, Jonathan shook his head. "I have heard the name before, but I must admit I know nothing of her ideology. I do not think it would be dangerous to discuss her thoughts with Scythia however. At least, not necessarily dangerous. Other than making sure you catch her in a good mood of course..."

"Which wouldn't exactly be easy in itself", interjected Mina with a smile.

"...This is true", Jonathan laughed. "Other than catching her in a good mood, I think we would need to show her how the common cause may work in her favour."

"Such philosophies are not about placating those already in power."

"Not in their pure forms, no. Yet consider this. There are a many unaligned in the City right now, with more arriving everyday, and a great number seem very disaffected with society, be it mortal or Kindred. Scythia's normal reaction would be to crush them all, but Sofya Yanovskaya might offer a different solution. One that doesn't threaten to end in turf wars and multiple violations of the Masquerade."

[Loredoctor]

Pyotr appeared pensive, scratching his beard and staring into space. "You do have a point, comrade. However, you don't know Scythia like I do, sorry; her rule is absolute and she tolerates no deviations. The unaligned present themselves to her or Callidia. The fact that they are here without her knowing would be intolerable to say the least. Yes, we can reason that a balance can be achieved, but that doesn't deal with why they are here. That undermines her."

Pyotr was interrupted by a commotion at the entrance. A man in a leather jacket and black pants was accosting the man in the white tuxedo. Almost everyone had stopped talking and were watching him with a look of shock on their faces or amusement.

Mina leaned forward and placed a hand on Pyotr. "Darling," she said with a low voice, "could it be Roland?"

Pyotr turned to look at her. For a few moments he considered what she said. "Maybe," he shrugged. "But I know him well; he would be unable to announce his scheme.

"Jonathan," he said sadly. "I am afraid I have to ask a favour. You are new to our movement and I would like you to have a chance to prove yourself to everyone. Find out what is going on . . . where are all these kindred coming from and why. Be careful how you do it, as I suspect someone is playing games."

[Jonathan Belmont]

Jonathan watched as the man in the leather jacket, having been humiliated by Callidia as she entered the Opera House, strode towards the bar. Maybe he was aware of what was going on, or maybe he was just being used to cause trouble. Either way, he was dangerous, and probably more immediately, in danger.

Jonathan didn't want to think what five or ten or twenty like him could do. Things were delicately balanced in Lordenshaw City as it was.

Turning towards Pyotr, Jonathan answered, "I'd be happy to help. And I think I know just where to start. He may not be behind what's going on, but I'd wager he knows something."

"It was good to finally meet you, Pyotr. Until next time." Shaking the Idealist's hand in farewell, Jonathan extended his arm towards Mina and moved towards Roland Powell.

[Loredoctor]

Roland Powell was surrounded by several people, not all of them listening to what he had to say. More likely, they were simply hoping to associate with those in power or to be seen near them. Those that were attending to his discussion with another nodded approvingly every time he finished a sentence or made an emphatic gesture. Like him, they were dressed in pseudo-militaristic garb, and they wore the Carthian Movement symbol on their arm-bands.

"No actual dialectic can be attained between the worker and the bourgeoisie," Roland said firmly, his palm like a blade cutting the air as he emphasised each word. "I would argue that the languages each speaks are too necessary and thus too separated for any mutual understanding. On that basis, one has to ensure that everyone speaks one language which dictates that a class has to be eliminated. Many have argued that the wealthy or ruling elite realise this and so overwhelm society with their dialect - or, what should be the common dialect - through the media. When one type of language ceases to become the norm, that class ceases to have meaning. Unfortunately, the proletariat is often unable to use the media to establish their system of language, and it is thus driven underground. It leaves only the revolutionary path for them. Thus, action - blood and fire - is the new dialect between classes."

"Very well said, Roland" A plump woman replied with a polite applause of her hands.

"Thank you" He turned to face Mina and Jonathan. "Ah Mina, and her new sireling. Jonathan, I assume?" He replied with a tight-lipped smile.

[Jonathan Belmont]

"One of many assumptions, but in this case at least, quite correct", said Jonathan, not offering his hand.

"You make some interesting points Roland, and I acknowledge that the dialects of the classes have so diverged that communication between them is difficult. Surely not impossible though, unless you've already discounted communication and negotiation as viable options."

"You also speak of blood and fire. Passionate, most definitely, but a little too Salvation Army for my tastes." The plump woman who had previously applauded Powell gave Jonathan a dirty look, but her hero couldn't have missed the sniggers from many of the other Carthians that accompanied it.

"Tell me, Roland. If you had your way, who would bleed, and who would burn?"

[Loredoctor]

Manipulation + Social: 1 success.

Roland stood completely still and silent, and his face could have been mistaken for pale marble had not the blue veins on his forehead and cheeks pulsed angrily. His eyes were glittering dangerously. A hand reached calmly up and smoothed his hair. "Of course the bourgeoisie would bleed, childer," he said in a smooth voice. "As for who would burn, I would appeal to your intelligence to work it out." He cast a meaningful look about the room, towards Callidia and her retinue, before resting his icy gaze on Jonathan. It lingered for a few moments.

Two Carthians left the group surrounding Roland and then started talking to Pyotr.

[Jonathan Belmont]

Detaching herself from Jonathan's arm, Mina started a lively conversation with a number of the other Carthians as her childer stepped close to Powell and lowered his voice.

"And then what, Roland? After the fury and terror and public diablerie, Lordenshaw becomes as Vampiric utopia? That might happen, if the proletariat were to rise up of their own volition and cast down their oppressors, but that's not what's happening here. Someone, somewhere, is playing games. Pulling strings. Making promises that they can't keep."

"What do you...?"

"That won't bring about a golden age, Roland. It'll just replace one tyrant with another, and what good is that? Fifty years after the Stalinists replaced the Romanovs the peasants were still grubbing in the dirt."

Powell started to speak, but Jonathan cut him off again. "As soon as the unaligned become a real threat, they'll unite. Scythia. The Invictus. The Dragons. Even Sigismund. All of them. And since you're the one always spending so much time with the unaligned, they'll suspect you, regardless of how little you actually know. Which means they'll all be united against us."

[Loredoctor]

Debate - contested roll (Intelligence + Academics): Jonathan - 2 successes. Roland - 2 successes. Neither character wins the debate.

"Anything is preferable to the system Scythia has set up. She's power mad and oblivious to the warnings around her. She's unlike any leader we have had before, and that includes the Kindred. If she is brought down by the masses, it will be seen as a righteous act."

Roland stepped back and made a wide flourish of his hands. "Look with your eyes, and see who will really stand against them . . . against us. The Sanctified won't miss, and the Movement won't either. The Invictus will probably relish the chance to re-establish the status quo, and those masses will bring in a new age where they realise they are out of date."

[Jonathan Belmont]

"So you're betting everything on whoever is orchestrating this invasion of unaligned? That they'll be able to restrain themselves just enough to remain the lesser of two evils - bad maybe, but not as bad as the Hierophant."

"Roland, that's a very dangerous game to play."

[Loredoctor]

Roland stared at Jonathan for a minute. He then smoothed his hair and leaned forward. "Who is to say that an invasion is underway. All I can see is putty in the Movement's hands."

[Jonathan Belmont]

"Then perhaps the Movement should meet, to decide how best to mould this new opportunity. I'll ask Mina to mention it to Pyotr."

Jonathan smiled grimly. "Speaking of Mina, I should get back to her. It was a pleasure to meet you Roland, and I look forward to next time. I always enjoy a good debate."

Before Powell could respond Jonathan turned away and walked towards Mina who had just detached herself from another conversation with Pyotr. "Did you learn anything useful?" she asked.

"Nothing concrete, but I'm sure he knows something. It's just a matter of getting him to talk. He did say that all the unaligned present a great opportunity for the Movement. So I suggested that the Movement meet to discuss how best to take advantage of it."

Mina gave him a look of malicious delight. "What a wonderful idea. I'm surprised he didn't think of it himself", she added dryly. "I'll mention something to Pyotr before we leave."

As his sire spoke, Jonathan quickly scanned the room. "Scythia's not here yet", he noted. "I wonder what's keeping her?"

"She probably wants to make a grand entrance, and being fashionably late always helps. The woman is a Ventrue to the bone."

"Well, until she gets here, why don't you introduce me to Callidia and get that out of the way?"

Mina looked over to where the Mistress of Elysium was standing with her companions. Lydia Hibberd seemed to be monopolising the conversation.

"If I must, Jon", she sighed, taking his arm. "If I really must."

[Loredoctor]

This concludes the Encounter with the Unaligned chapter.

Experience awarded:
2 points for roleplaying your character exceptionally well.

[Loredoctor]

The foyer was becoming crowded. Jonathan and Mina walked past loose and dense knots of individuals. Most were Kindred, she pointed out. Although not a few Ghouls hovered about their mistresses and masters. As they approached Callidia and Lydia, the mistress of ceremonies' attention became drawn to her mobile and she then walked away. Lydia flashed a predatorial smile. When she saw Mina and Jonathan approach, her eyes lit up briefly in anger or surprise.



"Oh Mina," she said with artificial politeness. "How delightful to see you. I see you bring your childer, Jonathan Belmont." She nodded and her companions smiled greetings, although one bared his fangs. "Allow me to introduce you to my companions. Emmet, Juliet, Andre, Anisa and Catherine, this is Mina."

[Jonathan Belmont]

Sparing her companions the briefest of glances, Jonathan focused his full attention on Lydia. With a charming smile and a slight incline of his head he replied, "Ms Hibberd, the delight is mine. I apologise if we're disturbing you, but with the Mistress of Ceremonies indisposed, you are, or so I've heard, the next person the newly-embraced should be introduced to." With wide-eyed sincerity he continued. "So I cajoled Mina into bringing me to meet you now - I was worried that we wouldn't have time after the Hierophant arrives."

[Loredoctor]

"You are disturbing me, Belmont," Lydia said with a forced smile. "However, my attendants would not mind a brief interruption. I had heard another kindred mention you, or the childe of Mina."

Her companions laughed. The single male, Emmet, placed a hand over his mouth. Lydia smiled at them and swung her hips seductively, and a hand stroked her raven hair playfully. Her blue eyes narrowed as she stared at Jonathan.

"I am afraid I do not have any more time. Please feel free to interrupt someone else tonight, as I have other guests to meet."

[Jonathan Belmont]

"As you wish. I would comment on what a pleasure it has been, but...well..."

Turning his back on Lydia and starting to move away with Mina, Jonathan suddenly stopped and spoke over his shoulder. "Speaking of this other Kindred, please remember me to Monsieur Rôdeur. I shall certainly mention our meeting next time we speak."

Not waiting to judge the Harpy's reaction, he departed into the crowd.

"Don't look back", Mina commanded in a whisper as they walked away

"But how will I know if my guess was right?"

"Don't worry. You'll know."