Script ReWrite: Chapter 1: An invitation

[Bitom]

It's been three months since the 'raid.' That's a funny word. Two tramp steamers started in Mexico city with a crew, some fish, and about 50 illegal emigrants each. Also, each had a handful of vampires, Several drums of blood, and a huge crate labeled as an automobile that was actually full of dirt. By the time the ships arrived in San Sevastian, there were a hundred new Sabbat warriors ready to disembark. They flooded over the docks, eating as they went like locusts, and it was fortunate that a Nosferatu saw them.

The Camarilla of San Sevastian has never been organized so quickly. Nobody could have anticipated it. The Sabbat certainly didn't. Young and old, the kindred of the city came out to fight, given carte blanche to violate the masquerade as needed to save the city. The fight was remarkably brutal, and surprisingly quick. Even the anarchs came out to fight by the side of the Camarilla. Nobody ever questioned why.

Afterwards, the purge began. None of you heard the Prince order it. Perhaps he didn't. The mask and the new Sheriff led the way, butchering humans with the same lack of compassion that they showed for the Sabbat. But this killing was cold. Without hatred, it was simply something to be done. All of the elders helped. Some found them, some helped kill them. All stayed out until the sun threatened to burn them from the streets.

The slaughter, known in the press as the 'dock riots' is now legendary. But nobody knows what happened. Nobody seems to have survived who saw it. Conspiracy theorists are going nuts for it, but none of them come close to the truth. You know the truth. You were there.

The first two to form this Coterie were Joe and Harold. Their eyes met over a burning car, and they recognized their own pain and self-hatred in each others eyes. They shook bloody hands on that night and said the words that have become a mantra to you all. "Never again." Foster was watching and made himself known, then all three went underground, hiding to try and learn what could be done.

Maria and Duke had met before. You can't be part of the Camarilla upper crust clans without knowing all of the others. They didn't speak much, but they had seen each other that night, too. Each trying not to be part of the slaughter, and trying harder not to die in it. At Elise's next party, they were there, they spoke, and in hushed wispers in the garden, they, too swore that they would never be part of such a thing again. Foster was listening, and brought them to the house that the group was using, and now there are five sworn to the words "never again."

Leopold was also part of the purge, serving his master. He, too saw the atrocity, but it didn't have the same call to him that it did the others. Although he killed, he did not feel a part of himself rise up to revel in it. Although he saw the elders, he did not feel himself becoming them. He is not sworn to the words, but he is bound to Duke by a tie that makes such differances pointless. Duke's cause is his cause.

For awhile, everybody hid, for fear that the elders would learn of the coterie and work to break it, and possibly those in it. But for three months, there has been no notice. The Nosferatu have made it clear to Foster that they know of the group and its vow'¦ and don't care. There have been hints from all of the clans that this is true, and now it's obvious that the Prince knows, too.

When all of you arrived at the house this evening, there was a letter in the middle of the table. It was addressed to all of you and signed by the Prince himself. It invites you to visit him at the Elysium this evening... all of you together. It does not say why.

[od]

Harold eyes the letter with trepidation, "This can't be good. I am not the kind of person the Prince asks to have a nice friendly chat with."

[Vardaen]

Duke Emerson, a Venture Blue Blood from a wealthy mortal bloodline, is not your typical socialite, or perhaps he is. In any society, including high society, there are always your loners, your rebels, your lazy ones. Duke is a little of all three, and a little of his father's control as well. Born and raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, he quickly spit the spoon out, much to his father distaste. Too many years in private boarding schools led to Duke questioning, and hating his partents. He was never good enough for them anyhow. Why wasn't he more like his brother? His brother excelled in classes, sports, and politics (having been elected his prep school president to start it off). Duke grew to dislike his brother, his TWIN brother, and by collage the two rarely spoke to one another. Duke be came your classic spoiled little rich rebel. He enjoyed the ladies, drinking, and the occational spin into the cocaine world, but even these vices he would rebel against.

In his early twenties a change would come over him, a change that everyone sworn to those words "Never Again" would endure in their own way. On one of those rare nights that he actually was home they came. They came to bring a new sheep into the flock, to turn another drone to join their cause. They would make a mistake. Duke and Ross, his brother, were worlds appart in views, but they were identical in appearance. In slipped the sire, Natasha Volkovich, a ranking Venture in San Savastain, and in a fit of blind passion, or arogance, she embraced the young man in Ross' room. Just as it was ending Ross walked in! What happened after that is speculation that even the Nosveratu don't know, or don't speak about. Regardless, that was years ago, and the novelty of it has worn off. What is known is that Duke has spent his life as a Kindred in the shadows of the circumstances of his Embrace. Recent events have played their part in his convictions and so here he stands in this house full of...idealists.

"I suspect we shall be enjoying our last night together." His voice is strong, sexy, and commanding. "If the Prince has finally found out, then you can bet he wants nothing but to squash this little coterie we have." He laughs, seemingly find with the idea, "I hope you boys and girls don't mind joining the Anarchs, cause no doubt that will be the safest play to run if we escape tonight." He waves his hand at Leopold knowing the Ghoul will no doubt point out the fact that Elysium is a place of haven, and non violence, but so was San Savastain for the most part until a few months ago.

Duke and Ross Emerson Picture

[Bave]

Leo simply nods slightly eyes on his master. Despite the relation the two had once, the ghoul does not dare voice his opposition the Duke's view of things. Half a decade he could well have done that, half a decade ago they were friends, fraternity brothers. Yet that was the past. Once Leopold tasted the blood of his master his life was over. All relations he held in the world of mortals were no more. There was only one thing that was constant ' the will of his master. If Duke wished them to join the Anarchs they he would do so and do it gladly.

'œBy all probability, sir,' he says his, eyes on the envelope. 'œAlthough there is a minor probability that you might prove of some sue to the Prince.' No mention of the others, naturally. After all they are hardly worth comparing with a true Ventrue. 'œIt would have been far more efficient to have dealt with us already'¦'
Barely finishing his phrase, Leo's hand moves under his suit, to where most probably a weapon is kept.
'œMaybe we should go to the Elysium right away, sir'¦' his eyes start moving about as if expecting some threat. 'œOr not at all, if you prefer.'

[od]

Description

Harold is that guy you always see in the movies whenever hollywood decides that they need to invoke the goth stereotype. He's tall, has black hair, is a bit too pale, has black eyes...and if you aren't completely mistaken he might be wearing eye liner...His pants are a tad too tight and are made from either leather or pleather, or something you can't tell for sure. The black shirt he wears is button down and the black leather jacket is far heavier than this time of year requires. Of course he'll be sporting a trench coat by September...in Florida. All in all, he's exactly what you would expect a new age vampire to look like...well if you didn't atually know what a new age vampire looked like that is.

"Well, shit I thought I'd get another couple of years before the Prince tired of the joke." Harold remarks to no one in particular, but that's fairly standard for him...usually the only people he talks to directly are mortals.

[TetNak]

Joe Bard has already read the letter. He is an interesting fellow, quiet, but nearly always listening and picking up information. After all, that is what he did for years as a mortal, as an agent of the ATF and later the CIA. He posed as an industrial engineer at one of the oil refineries in San Savastain. What his exact purpose was is unknown, as he really has not told anyone, not anyone in /this/ room at least. It is relatively assumed that he was sired because of his contacts and such, but it is notable that his blood is relatively potent, and the Ancilla that sired him is not even of San Savastain at all, and instead he has received instruction from Matthew Haste.

Typically he is just called '˜Bard'. He is of average height, perhaps six feet tall, and his body type is more sinewy than muscular. Wearing a full, brown, beard and short cropped hair, he could be anyone in the city. The man does not stick out, which is useful for someone of his previous occupation. Recently, perhaps a year ago, he took a sabbatical from working for the agency as it become increasingly difficult to perform his duties while protecting the Masquerade and his own secret of Vampirism.

He is currently wearing frayed jeans at the cuffs of his legs, black work boots, and a non-descript white undershirt. Holding a cigarette in his hands, he pulls the smoke into his mouth and simply pushes it back out, as he cannot truly smoke it since his lungs actually do not function as they should. 'œLeo's right,' he says, 'œWe'd have had a visit by the Sheriff by now you would figure if we were to meet our end.' He shrugs, 'œMaybe he wants something from us.'

[Vardaen]

Duke is lounging in one of the ratty stuffed chairs here, taken off the curb one night and drug in here to create a place to sit. "Probably right, but there is always that joy you get from humilating your foes infront of everyone first. Or the thrill of the hunt, however you probably are right Leopold, we'd be dead, or dead again, if he wanted us as such already." He nods at the smoking Bard, "Wants something, or demands something. Worst part is we can't say no if he wants us to do something can we? I mean if we do, we end up back at the first dilema, or dieing a second time." He pulls the sunglasses from his pocket, puts them on, and stands up. "I'm ready, everyone here?" He checks the room looking at everyone to see if they are ready.

[Shinling]

Maria strolls into the common room as any elegant lady would. Her feet placed carefully on the floor as she walks and her hips swing slightly under her long thin dark red silk dress. Her blood read hair ends at her shoulders. Maria is only a little over 5 feet, but she always wears a pair of knee high black leather stiletto boots that adds another 5 inches to her height. If everyone did not already know what Maria's previous profession was, it would be head to guess, until you spoke with her.

Her ears picked up the conversation as she came in. 'œAgreed' she looks at the others, 'œmight as well get this over with'. Maria walks over to the door and procures a small pocketbook, more like a change purse, and removes a set of keys from it. She is ready to go and already heading for the door.

[od]

Harold shrugs and once again rattles off something most likely intended for the empty space int he room. "I suppose if word got out I was gonna die HE would have come here personally. Guess I'll just go see what the Prince wants with me this time."

Harold Fisher

[Bave]

Leo hesitates for a moment, then moves his hand back in plain sight. 'œHow would we get there?' he asks, as if more to himself than actually voicing an opinion. Still he has spoken loud enough for everyone to hear. 'œIt is also possible that we be'¦ tested, before the actual conversation'¦' Having lived in the Soviet Union and later Russia, Leo is a veritable conspiracy theory expert when it comes to human behavior. Even in his new 'œlife' paranoia plays a major part.
'œTogether might provide strength'¦ separated ' stealth'¦' his eyes, naturally are on Duke. 'œAnd it also would increase our chances of survival if my master takes the lead. If there are any problems, I doubt anyone else would be handle them adequately.'