Let's Play VtM: Wild Nights - Chapter 10

[grotsnik]

@LAcLOnguaN - wHY tHE AbaNDONmeNt Of mAlK iRReGULar CaPiTALisAtIoN? FucK, NOw I sEe WhY, It'S A fUCkinG PaiN. Ah WeLl.

@ironyuri - You did indeed miss out on valuable information by not heading to the meeting on time. Though there's plenty of hilariously unsubtle foreshadowing in that in every chapter and especially the prologue

And since Erebus asked, here's a Codex entry.


The Centurion


"Ha! You fools! You do not realise that I have a force greater than any of you at my beck and call! Centurion, come forth! Morituri de salutant! Centurion! ...Centurion?"
The Ventrue Roger Partlow, shortly before his death at the hands of Sabbat thugs.


Nobody is certain of the provenance of the Centurion - even amongst the oldest vampires in London, who have only ever known this strange, chaotic, Latin-speaking creature as an unknown terror - a terrifying, Kindred-slaying ghost in the night. Some report that the clanking Roman armour it has been seen in is nothing more than a costume shop prop. Others claim to have spotted it in a mechanic's uniform, or even an old, dusty tux.


What is clear is that this decaying, shambling creature has no loyalties, and no mission...or, at least, none that any Kindred have been able to understand. It appears to revel in pure chaos, strolling into Sabbat warehouses, Camarilla hangouts, or Anarch dens, massacring at will with peculiar spells and a rusted gladius. Sometimes it will take sides, choosing apparently at random to protect one group against another. At other times it will simply slaughter all present...or even pass by with nothing more than a cheerful greeting of 'Ave' and perhaps a macabre gift. It moves quickly, seeming to appear and disappear, and no Kine authority or media outlet has ever seemed to pick up on its existence.


Many have attempted to bring down the Centurion (certainly, it strikes with a carelessness that is forever in danger of breaking the Masquerade)...and many more have attempted to win it over to their side. Both efforts habitually end in failure - sometimes mortal. With surprising frequency, idiotic Sabbat members will claim that the Centurion is actually on their side, only to have it immediately murder its way through one of their hideouts. Even a few elder Kindred who really ought to have known better lost their lives after conversing with the creature in Latin, convincing themselves that they'd successfully manipulated it into working for them, then led an assault on their enemies...only to find that the Centurion had vanished, often butchering some of its 'allies' beforehand. These last points have led many vampires to speculate that - whatever the true nature of the Centurion - it possesses a grand sense of humour.

 

[Erebus]

Not someone we can easily use to our advantage, I take it !

 

[SCO]

Do it the other way around. Make your enemy take him for his advantage.

 

[grotsnik]

oh no it's caesar legion all over again

Bullshit. Why do you lie? FFS

Spoiler

He's actually more like a Latin-spouting, blood-drinking version of The Weaver from Perdido Street Station. And unlike Caesar's Fuckwits, he may actually be Roman.

 

[grotsnik]

Spoiler

And Italian, old bean. And Italian. Though as Samedis are relatively new, it seems likely that if he is as old as is suggested, he's no ordinary Samedi. Though that should already be obvious, should it not?

 

[Black Bart Charley]

I hope the Weaver was never part of some deus ex moment...

 

[Storyfag]

but aren't samedi...haitians?

There is one more bloodline whose members look like corpses. And these guys tend to be quite ancient, unlike the Samedi...

 

[Rod Rodderson]

There is one more bloodline whose members look like corpses. And these guys tend to be quite ancient, unlike the Samedi...

You also have the Cappadocian remnants, though they're only a little corpselike.

 

[Storyfag]

but aren't samedi...haitians?

There is one more bloodline whose members look like corpses. And these guys tend to be quite ancient, unlike the Samedi...

tell me more, old bean.

Harbingers of Skulls. Rings a bell? They're the Cappadocians who survived the Giovanni purge. There's like 50 of them in the world, all ancient, all low generation, all insanely powerful necromancers. Theoretically they're Sabbat, but in practice they're just out for revenge on the Giovanni. Doesn't quite fit the Centurion, but maybe he's just following some crazy plan leading to the fall of the Giovanni?

 

[grotsnik]

BB

Chapter 4 - Anarchy in the UK


“You know, Karthik,” you say, slowly, “I think I’ll share a pipe with you after all.”

Nodding, he hands over the hookah and gestures towards the filthy man in the back of the shop to bring over some more.

You inhale. The blood is foul, reeking of city smog and neglect, but you manage to keep it down, and smile when he asks you how you like it.

“So,” you say, passing it back. “You know everything that happens in London. Did you hear about that cargo container the Cathayans brought into Chinatown last month? The one that disappeared into Soho?”

“Of course,” Karthik mutters, but you can make out the first traces of discomfort on his face.

“Then you’ll know what’s in it,” you reply.

He stiffens, visibly. His enormous fingers coil around the pipe.

A gaggle of the French kine that infest this district wander past, chattering drunkenly. Karthik watches them go.

“Not bad,” he says.

“You’ll also know,” you continue, mock-casually, “about the exquisite Jarmo vase in my possession. The one I’ve been hoping to find a buyer for.”

He licks his lips. For a little while, you sit in silence.

“Do you know why the Romans named this city Londinium?” he says.

“After the Celtic term,” you answer. “Londinion. The wild place.”

“Indeed,” Karthik says, “indeed. For all their power and arrogance, even the Romans knew they were only building on the foundations of something far older and darker than they could ever contemplate. The wild place. And this city has been wild ever since.”

The wails of an ambulance, away in the night.

“Terence Rannigan,” says Karthik, “was nowhere near Whitehall the night he was kidnapped. A contact of mine saw him near Vauxhall, south of the river. Travelling east, on foot.”

There are plenty of Sabbat dens near Vauxhall, you think.

"So do you know what happened to him?" you ask.

He shrugs, expressively.

"My contact lost him in the tunnel beneath the station," he says. "And five hours later, his aides reported he'd gone missing. I swear, my friend - if I knew any more, I would tell you."

You lean back in your seat.

So this entire investigation was a dead end, you think. But was the Prince lying to me, or was he being lied to himself?

"Did your contact notice anything else?" you say, eventually.

Karthik takes a final, flatulent puff on the hookah.

"Just one thing," he says. "Rannigan looked afraid."

He stares out over the street, into the middle distance. His expression seems to change.

"Patrician," he tells you, "these dark nights are too dark for the pair of us. let's waste a few hours sinking into torpor, you and I. I'll get my man behind the bar to bring out some syncopatic tea. Last time I tried it, I spent five hours chatting with the Dark Father on the floor of the back room, my legs twitching uncontrollably."

You check your watch.

"No," you say, kindly but firmly, "no, Karthik, I'm afraid I cannot stay."

Your hand snakes across, and lifts the business card from the table.

Karthik looks rather saddened.

"It's always business with you Ventrue," he complains, "especially when it isn't."



*



"Hello? Oscar? Forget about Whitehall. The surveillance target is Vauxhall station. Yes, I know what I said!"

Perhaps if you hadn't called Oscar, even now you would be gazing alertly around you in all directions as you cross the red-brick tiled apartments of Montagu Mansions.

Then again, perhaps if you hadn't lingered at Karthik's table, even now you'd be safely at home, considering your next move.

As it is, the first you know of the white Ford van is when it pulls up next to you, with a screech of tyres, the back doors burst open, and three pairs of hands lift you up and in.



*



Are you afraid?

For an instant. At least until you regain your balance, your fingers tightening on the pommel of your cane, ready to unscrew it, and you take in the three thin-blooded, fashionably-dressed vampires staring at you, and the crude music posters and beads dangling from the inside walls of the moving van.

Fantastic. You've been snatched by bloody Anarchs.

The nearest of your kidnappers, a bespectacled, bookish girl in an ill-fitting leather jacket, raises what you clearly recognise as a replica 19th-century duelling pistol from Portobello Road Market in two trembling hands and intones, with utter belief,

"This is the Redeemer's Flintlock. It fires a burst of pure sunlight. So don't you try anything, you..." She hesitates for a second before concluding, "...you blueblood fuck."

"I think we should call him Patrician," the other girl says, from the back. "There's no need to be rude, after all." She's dressed in kaffiyah and a stripy top; her hair is shaved, save for a single, gelled lick that curls down behind one of her ears. Torrie, you think.

You glance across at the boy. A thick-set, ugly Brujah lad, clasping an iron crowbar in his hands; and unlike the other two, his clothes are genuinely poor-quality. He glowers back at you. There's genuine anger there - a passion that could be tapped.

"We should put a bag over his head," the bespectacled girl snaps. "So he doesn't know anything about us."

"Ellie, you dumb fuck," the boy growls, "he's already seen our faces."

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway," Ellie snarls back. "We'll take him to the Sabbat, right? They'll deal with him, and we'll pick up the bounty."

"I didn't think we were going to take him to the Sabbat," the Toreador girl whines. "I thought we'd take him to Big Bob Griddle and the rest of the commune in Blackfriars. If we have a Camarilla prisoner, they'll have to listen to our demands-"

"Why the shit did you tell him about Blackfriars, Vanessa?" Ellie shrieks, turning the replica pistol back towards her companion. "Now we'll have to kill him ourselves."

"Don't point that fucking gun at her," the Brujah boy says. He looks as if he's about to get to his feet.

What do you do?


A) It's been a long night. I think I'll just beat these little thin-blood pricks to death.

B) Why not let them take me to the Sabbat? I think I'd quite like to have a word with them. (Risky. Very risky.)

C) I think I'll let them take me to the rest of the Anarchs. A parley with them could be very useful.

D) I don't have time for this nonsense, but I don't want to harm them. I'll just leap out of the van.

E) Maybe I can get them to kill each other. The Brujah boy may be of use.

 

[Storyfag]

B provided we've a chance to talk to someone cultured. A Lasombra bishop, not a bunch of Pander shovelheads.

 

[zool]

C. We need to know about this bounty the Sabbat seems to have put on our head.

 

[Kz3r0]

E) Maybe I can get them to kill each other. The Brujah boy may be of use.


Seriously, guys, how do you think to survive a bunch of Anarchs, and Sabbat too, rat diplomacy?

 

[laclongquan]

Aaaaah, now this is the stuff~ A succulent morsel we could sink our fangs into.

A most productive evening. What do we know:

1. Terrance was lost near the Sabbat's region. You trust Karchick more so it mean Sheriff's men lied.

2. There's a standing bounty on Camarilla kidnaps, it seem. Sabbat set and Anarchs fullfilled. It's possible that Sheriff's men know about this.

3. We know some info about Anarchs' contacts.

4. It's been too long a night to confront Sabbat now. It's a business best done on full stomach, armed allies, and diversions planned beforehand.

5. Brute force seem easy. But remember that we are Ventrue, always. Forging alliances and use others to bleed for you.

So what's conclusions?

1. It's very possible that the witnesses are framing the Anarchs, leading to a Camarilla-Anarch war. This benefit the Sabbat.

2. We dont know what the old baron know. Need a meet with him.

3. Need a meet and greet with Sheriff and her men. She's not out of suspicion yet.

4. A chance to forging links with Anarchs? Not to be missed.

What's actions to recommend?

CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC. We need to meet these Anarchs.

 

[Azael]

I agree with laclongquan's line of reasoning. Meeting with the Sabbat like this is too risky and we're not the sort to take (overly) stupid risks. Meeting the Anarchs is risky as well, but there's information to be gained here.

Then again, the safe bet probably would be to get them to kill themselves.

Still, voting C

 

[Esquilax]

Depends on how we weigh this. There's a definite opportunity cost here. The time that we spend in the car with these dickheads is valuable and could be spent doing other things - maybe getting Edgar to put the screws on Wilkinson. However, there's more than one way to get information and a parley with the Sabbat could be useful, provided they don't want to give us our Final Death. In any case, I'm sure we can talk our way out of it. Since we haven't killed Wilkinson, we can spin that and tell them that we kept her alive so that we could establish contact with them.

It turns out Karthik was relatively trustworthy. I'm really concerned about his mention of an upcoming war with Du Marchais. I am pretty certain that he will try to fuck us over soon, and besides Edgar, there are no Kindred who have our backs if the shit goes down. Keep these guys alive, earn some good will with the Anarchs and we may have some pissed off Brujah on our side on a rainy day. At the very least, the Anarchs are way less likely to want to kill us outright and will probably be more open to reason.

Although I'm tempted to kill these incompetent morons, and I'm certain we could take them out without even Dominating the Brujah kid, I'm not sure how it helps us in any way or provides us with more opportunities other than the satisfaction of being EXTREME. That being said, I do want to improve our bro's fightan skills eventually.

Will think on it and decide a little later.

EDIT: Actually, what the fuck am I thinking? The Sabbat has a bounty on us and if they get their hands on us, they will snuff us for sure. Anarchs it is. I choose C.

 

[SCO]

C seems likely. E would prob work, until the brujah neonate finds out about domination. Unless you are willing to form a secret sabbat bloodbond you'd never be sure.

Besides, they might actually be higher generation than you.

 

[Esquilax]

E) Maybe I can get them to kill each other. The Brujah boy may be of use.


Seriously, guys, how do you think to survive a bunch of Anarchs, and Sabbat too, rat diplomacy?

Granted, going to the Sabbat is a fucking insane idea and they will almost certainly kill us. The Anarchs, though? Nah. Yeah, they fucking hate blue-bloods, but as long as we don't start shit, I think we'll be OK. We might even make some nice contacts along the way.

The most important thing IMO, is what do you think we should be doing if we aren't going to meet up with the Anarchs. I think the best bet would be to get Edgar to beat something useful out of Wilkinson about this.

 

[Serious_Business]

My first reaction was A, but I suppose that is not very Reasonable. So I'm going for C

 

[ironyuri]

I think the time has come to take risks. Let's go visit the Sabbat, bros.

 

[laclongquan]

You’re fast, sure…but not lightning-fast – sitting in an office all night long tends to give you a pot-belly. Still, maybe these wild nights are just what you need to get a little exercise. There is inherent risk in testing your relatively puny strength against many other vampire clans.

Best not solo for now, old chap. Prudence at sea is always wisdom. And our death wish is not that big.

Dont forget that Chapter 1 give you an itty bitty piece of info : two of the old man's enforcers failed to report in last night. Intriguing, isnt it? More followup on Madam Sheriff and her harem is definitely in order.

 

[Erebus]

Meeting with the Sabbat like this is too risky and we're not the sort to take (overly) stupid risks. Meeting the Anarchs is risky as well, but there's information to be gained here.

I agree. Meeting with the Sabbat is too dangerous, especially if they're plotting something. Even if we survived the meeting, our enemies inside the Camarilla might hear about it and accuse us of working with the enemy.

I vote C. It offers a reasonable balance between risk and benefit.

 

[Black Bart Charley]

DDDDD

What the fuck? We go where we want to go when we want to go! Since we had a good day, we let the punks live. They already told us where the Anarchs are and that the Sabbat are out for blood. Fuck em.

DDDDD

 

[SCO]

Anticipating things but: It's almost certain that going to meet the anarchs they will try to "turn" us as a spy for the prince. Either say yes, and as soon as you can phone the nosferatu saying you're actually a triple agent... for them, or don't take it.

(the nosferatu will be watching for what happened to you and might be even eavesdropping).

 

[SCO]

DDDDD

What the fuck? We go where we want to go when we want to go! Since we had a good day, we let the punks live. They already told us where the Anarchs are and that the Sabbat are out for blood. Fuck em.

DDDDD

Clan Brujah/Toreador has celerity.