[WoD] Shadow Play

[Katarina Gordislava]

"Almost there," Katarina murmured, refusing to address the elder Tzimisce by anything but her name. She'd been given no title with which to call her, and would not defer to Ezserbet even if the female did have a generation on her. The twin black sedans pulled up to their safe house, having taken a very round about route to get there and splitting up more than once.

After the bloody nose they'd just given the local Camarilla, it was prudent to be cautious. Her vizier was in the other car, and their trail had been watched by Lesombra agents. They had not been followed. Rodermark had his dainty Tory hands full with the mess they’d left behind. If they lingered in London too long he would be sure to find them, but for the rest of this night they were safe.

Sergei opened the door for her, and Katarina stepped out, accepting his hand for assistance. Ezserbet opened her own door, probably still grumpy about the Tremere sorcerer. The Tziminsce was flanked by loyal guards, and taken inside the house where she could feed and restore herself. There were even a few of her ghouls inside, possibly her favorite pets, but Katarina preferred to ignore them. The drivers took the sedans away, leaving the Archbishop and her Vizier on the sidewalk.

Snow was falling, and she absently put a hand out to catch a few of the fluffy flakes on her palm. "Another successful night, Sergei. Don't you think?"

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

“Certainly, Archbishop.”

As he and Katarina walked side by side up the gravel driveway, Sergei watched the Sabbat ghouls lead the Tzimisce mistress towards their safehold. The fiends certainly were something fascinating to observe, he could not deny that.

“Though I'm not certain that our Hungarian friend would agree,” he added, his voice lowered.

[Erzsebet]

The tiny Tzimisce walked ahead of the Lasombra and Tremere, clearly fuming. She had lost her best salachta guards in the mess of an attack on the Camarilla, a large majority of her smaller ghouls had been slaughtered and she had been injured. The Tremere was the icing on the cake, the cherry to top the already disappointing turn of events.

She had said little to the Archbishop in the car, remaining silent and tending to the wounds she'd received in the gallery. She dismissed the Sabbat guards as she entered the safe house, a young servant rushing to her side. Fortunately, the Archbishop had done well in provide her with the comforts of home - an identical pair of Salachta stood on either side of the doorway, and her most delicious servant girl had been brought to tend to her mistress' needs.

The Tzimisce retired to her room without a word to the other Sabbat, intent on feeding and stitching her wounds before even expressing her disappointment with the events of the evening.

[Katarina Gordislava]

Brushing the snowflakes off her hands, Katarina agreed, "No, I am certain she does not." She glanced sideways at him, and added, "Of course, I did not inform her of the exact identity of my vizier before tonight. The Cardinal insisted I did not - probably securing her participation in his plan and a long screaming session directed at me."

They reached the doors, and she walked inside. "Which was most likely what he had in mind." A kine came to her side immediately, and Katarina waved the young woman away irritably. She was thirsty, but always partook in privacy except during the necessary blood rituals of the Noddish priests.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

“Perhaps it was the Cardinals intent to create tension between the two of you.”

Although Sergei had... worked with Katarina and the Sabbat for some time now, he was still not always clear on the motivations of the Elders of the sect. Perhaps this was a test, of loyalty and resilience, or perhaps the Cardinal had simply been feeling particularly malicious and decided to bring the three together out of spite.

[Erzsebet]

The servant lay silently on the floor as Erzsebet sat comfortably in a plush chair, humming quietly to herself. She had fed, and now held a needle and thread in hand. The Tzimisce made delicate stitches up the wounds on her arms, enjoying the sensation of the thread tightening them closed.

As her fingers worked, her mind drifted to what exactly she would say to the Archbishop when the time came. She had been tricked into coming here; if she had known a Tremere was involved, she would not have come. She was sure it was the Cardinals' doing. Perhaps he had wanted more then lip service from her, as she had enjoyed several decades of solitary living without having to endure the workings of the Sabbat hierarchy. Either way, she was anxious to return home to her native soil.

[Katarina Gordislava]

She stopped in the hallway, looking up at the vaulted ceiling. "No, I suspect that he wishes to drive a wedge between us, Sergei." Katarina looked at the mage, and added, "I’ve watched him move pieces around the board for years now. I imagine there will be more moves to come."

Her superior, the Cardinal of Russia, would like nothing more than to separate Katarina from her vizier. Together she and Sergei were strong, but if they were apart her power base would be weakened tremendously. As also her Vizier would be vulnerable without her protection. She had become the Archbishop of Moscow through a series of carefully planned events, and the Cardinal had been unhappy ever since. No, not unhappy. Displeased.

The Cold War was just the largest event that he could blame totally on her, and he used it as often as he could. Katarina brushed her hair out of her eyes, and couldn’t help feeling a bit smug. The obvious outcome of tonight's little adventure was increased hostilities between the Camarilla and the Sabbat. She was sure the orders for tonight’s strike had come from higher up than the Cardinal, for such a cross-continental mission. The second outcome would be for Katarina to obtain a new enemy – Ezserbet. Oh how the Cardinal wanted her to be pressured out of Moscow.

The third, and the one she was only guessing at, would be that Katarina would begin to resent the Tremere sorcerer and thusly make it easier to remove them both from their prominent positions. "I must prepare for talking to Ezserbet. I want you to join us."

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

“It's not my place to question you, Archbishop... but do you think that's wise?”

Including Sergei in her discussion with the Tzimisce was only likely to anger the fiend further. The grudge that Erzsebet carried was one centuries old, one that would not be soon forgotten for the cause of the Sabbat. Clan Tzimisce would not be happy until every last Tremere had suffered for the sins of their forefathers. Such was the life of the kindred, one of eternal strife.

“She will not warm to me, no matter how many of the Camarilla fall at my hands. There is not enough blood in the world to be spilled that could quench her thirst for vengeance.”

[Katarina Gordislava]

She smiled thinly, "Apologies, Vishnyakov. I meant for you to join me as I prepared." It was an effort not to add the 'comrade' to to his name.

Katarina gestured to the room that had been prepared for her: two kine were sitting inside, a vacant look on their faces. It would be a first to include Sergei, but a little extra attention would not be misplaced.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

His eyes followed the Archbishops gesture and took in the empty faces.

“Ah.”

The Sabbat fed their minions well. Rarely did Katarina or her entourage want for fresh blood. Unlike the Camarilla, they drunk deeply and freely, often to excess. The Beast was not something which they feared, but embraced and revered. It was a concept which Sergei had adapted to quickly.

Though he hungered, Sergei did so with restraint. It was not his place to feed first – that fell to his superior. He followed a little behind her as they entered the room, the doors closing behind them.

“Do you think the Cardinal has some greater plan for London?” he asked. The kine did not trouble him – they were deaf to his words, in a dominated trance. The secrets of the Sabbat were safe here.

[Katarina Gordislava]

As the doors closed behind them, she snapped her fingers, directing one of the young women to approach her. The kine got to her feet and started forward. "Of course the old goat has plans for London. I just do not know what they are. Yet."

Katarina intended to find out, and her interview with Ezserbet would serve to inform her of what the old vampire had told the Tzimisce. The girl stopped in front of her mistress, and knelt. Her dark hair was gathered up into a ponytail, and she stared at the floor without emotion.

The Archbishop knelt behind the kine, gathering the ponytail into one hand as she pulled her head to the side. With a sigh that bordered on a growl, the Lesombra sank her fangs into the neck, welcoming the gush of warm blood. The kine relaxed against her, and for a twisted moment the two became one as the vampire indulged. The act of feeding had been repulsive, but necessary, the first few years after her Embrace, but Katarina no longer had any such reservations. She had given herself over to her new life wholly a long time ago.

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

For all the brutality and violence of the Sabbat, they did not feed with ferocious abandon. Sergei watched Katarina for only a brief while before satiating his own needs. The use of the Tremere blood magic had weakened him greatly, as he suspected it always would, and although it was unlikely that the mortal would survive his thirst, he took her life-force with care. Its rejuvenating effects were felt almost immediately, and as the kine became limp so Sergei became strong. The room was silent but for the occasional soft moan, as the mortals sunk into bliss, unaware of the true horror of their predicament.

[Katarina Gordislava]

Only after they were done feeding, and the bodies of the kine had been taken away, did Katarina speak again. "We must return to Moscow as soon as I placate our ally. She may be an Elder, but she has sheltered herself too long in Budapest."

Katarina had been a Lesombra for less than a century, but her true age put her at about a hundred and thirty. For such a young vampire to have risen to Archbishop was nearly unheard of, but then, she had a less than usual background. Her sire, for all that he had been more Malkavian than Lesombra, had picked his childe well. She had, after the initial shock of finding herself in a new life with no one to guide her, adapted quite well to the politics of life in the Sabbat.

She continued, a bit quieter as three female ghouls entered, though they would not hear as they began to work on her hair, "We return to Moscow before tomorrow, and we find out what is so important about London. If the Cardinal knows something, I want to know it too."

[Sergei Vishnyakov]

The vizier gave a slow nod in reply. “We can only hope that the Cardinal will be forthcoming with his plans,” he said, as he watched the ghouls fawn over Katarina, knowing full-well that the Cardinal was likely to be anything but indulgent of their request to know his intentions for London.

“If you have no further need of me, Archbishop, might I return to my chamber? I have some small matters to tend to before we leave.”

[Katarina Gordislava]

She waved at him dismissively. "Certainly." Katarina tolerated the ministrations of the ghouls: a few of her best as she could not bring the rest of them with her from Moscow.

Her hair was brushed and pinned up in a twist, and her clothing was changed. Once they had finished, the ghouls immediately started packing up what Katarina had brought with her, including a small, silver framed hand mirror. The vampire walked out of her chambers perfectly composed on the outside.

One of her pack was waiting outside her door. "The Tzimisce is waiting for you in the -"

"Yes, I know." She kept on walking, and he fell in step just behind her until they reached the parlor doors. "Stay here," she commanded, and went inside alone.

[Erzsebet]

Erzsebet was seated in the parlor, redressed and groomed like the Lasombra - she wore a less formal version of the frilly black dress she'd worn earlier and her long dark hair was pulled back in a single braid. A large leather-bound book sat in her lap as she skipped through the dog-eared pages. She was a bit apprehensive; for all her fury at the Archbishop, she was an Archbishop. That gave her power within the Sabbat, even if Erzsebet was centuries older.

She greeted Katarina with a polite half-smile, closing her book and setting it on the lounge next to her. Her two salachta flanked both sides of the lounge, and a spare "monkey" ghoul perched on it's back.

"Archbishop, I feel we need to discuss tonights'...events. I'm very disappointed with the outcome -- I have a feeling that bring a Tzimisce and Tremere together for this attack was not your doing, but the loss of so many of my ghouls was not acceptable. I did not leave Budapest to have my servants slaughtered by Tory perverts and their humanity loving counterparts."

[Katarina Gordislava]

Ah, so we are being polite. Katarina could do polite. "It was very distasteful, I do agree, Ezserbet. However, to achieve our goals we must sometimes make sacrifices." She had been informed of the final death of one of her pack in the attack on the Barbican, but you didn't hear her complaining.

Ezserbet, for all her years, was still very much a complaining teenager at times, Katarina noted with a bit of superiority. "I am sure that you will be duly rewarded for your part in this night's activities, and your servants can be replaced, though it may take time.

"The Cardinal keeps his own counsel but the attack on the Barbican is the beginning of the end of the Camarilla. Do not think that your pets were wasted."

[Erzsebet]

"Of course it will take time! Each one was crafted by my own hands into whatever I wanted it to be - altering that many ghouls takes years to get right, I doubt I will be able to replace every one that I've lost."

She slumped back against the cushioned seat, arms folding across her chest, a hint of a pout on her lips.

"And this is only the beginning of such raids - am I going to be dragged across Europe to satisfy the Cardinal? I have spent far too much time under the radar, and I would've liked to have kept it that way. "

[Katarina Gordislava]

The use of the word 'radar' amused Katarina for some reason, but she did not smile. "And if the Cardinal wishes to drag you across Europe, is it not his right?" And even if it isn't, he will thinks it is.

She waved her hand as though dismissing all the previous talk. "But what is a week, or even a year to us? By the morrow you will be safely back in Budapest, and if the Cardinal wishes to contact you again, he will. If he does not, he will not."

It was bad form, as well as impossible, to Dominate any vampire older than herself, but Katarina willed the conversation to be over without actually using any powers. Let this be all she can think of.

[Erzsebet]

A frustrated sigh was all Erzsebet could muster for a reply. The time spent away from home wouldn't matter if being away from her native land didn't leave her feeling weaker than normal. She'd brought her own "bedding" - a crate of soil from her haven had been shipped her with the rest of her things - but it wasnt the same.

"Fine, fine. If you no longer need me, I'd like to retire to my rooms. I need some rest."

[Katarina Gordislava]

Once the other female had left, Katarina slumped back in her chair and eyed the clock on the mantel. It was nearing three in the morning, and sunrise was scheduled for just before five. Ezserbet would only have time for a cat nap, although Katarina was not against packing the old Tzimisce in her crate and taking her home that way. It would make for less awkward silences in the plane.

Alexi Petarenko swept into the room, one of the least useful members of her pack. He was insufferably vain, more so than the usual Lesombra, and had a huge entourage of ghouls back in Moscow to make sure every hair was just so. He had pouted terribly on being told he could not bring any of them, as there was no room on the jet for every vampire to bring a ghoul. Katarina had three, and they'd brought two others to keep the rest of the pack groomed. Sergei, of course, had no need of any assistance. Not that it would have helped - he was rather plain, although the weight of his presence often made one forget his features. She looked up at Alexi, who seemed to preen without visibly moving.

"All is quiet, Archbishop. The Camarilla will not find us tonight."

"Good." She thought for a moment. "And the airport is not being watched?"

"No, Archbishop."

"Alert the pack - we are leaving immediately. I do not want to give that Tory Prince time to reason out where we will go."