London Bridge is Falling Down

[Thaddeus Post]

"Something is coming."

Gabriel Rodermark, Prince of London, had hardly uttered the words when a Nosferatu entered the hall, going directly to Saul Leavis' side. The Nosferatu Primogen frowned as the younger vampire muttered into his pointed ears, but before he could do anything a commotion outside the dining hall drew the attention of those gathered.

Clearly vexed, Rodermark glared at those who dared to look at him, and jerked his head towards the doors. The boundaries were well guarded, which meant that either they were under attack (which seemed not to be the case due to the earlier actions of the Nosferatu), or the one doing the commotion was a Kindred of the Camarilla. Saul turned in his chair to look at the doors, which burst outwards on their hinges much to the dismay of the Ventrue sitting nearest to them.

The odor of sulphur was in the air as two figures walked into the hall. Several pairs of eyes narrowed as Thaddeus Post and his ghoul companion entered, and Roland Salisbury pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket with a gloved hand.

"My Prince!" boomed Post, striding forward and holding a closed fist against his chest. "I must speak with you at once." The ghoul lingered by the doors, her clothing singed and hair messy. She set a battered looking suitcase by her feet, and dipped her hand into a pocket, only to pull out a rat that she held with both hands.

"This is madness!" A nameless voice called out from the midst of those gathered, but the elder Tremere continued to approach the Prince until he stood but a few feet away. His hair was in disarray, and his clothing smelt of brimstone.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

It seemed that night was to be filled with the unexpected. The sight of the newest arrival to the gathering, and elder Tremere by the name of Thaddeus, was perhaps the last thing I would have anticipated. While I contained my surprise, those around me were not so subtle.

“What is the meaning of this, Gabriel?” asked one of the Ventrue, as the gathered Kindred muttered amongst themselves, the sudden arrival of a battle-worn warlock setting them all on edge. I struck the long table in front of me with a clenched fist, sending a ripple of silence through the hall.

“What is it? Speak now.”

[Thaddeus Post]

"The chantry, my Lord, it has fallen." Thaddeus swept his hands through his hair, bits of ash falling out to the floor. "I do not know how, but the Baa'li have come through. The one I saw bore more than a passing resemblence to our Master of Rites, Nikolai Werner."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

“The Baa'li?” I repeated the phrase in disbelief. Salisbury was already out of the room, motioning a handful of Ventrue to follow him. Of the remaining Kindred, some were already on their feet, the whole room in an uproar. I stood, stunned.

I had mercifully limited knowledge of the Baa'li, a bloodline compared to whom even the Sabbat were tolerable. One thing I did know, however, was that such a lawless breed would have no respect for the Masquerade. Roland would have his work cut out for him trying to suppress mortal suspicion. Convincing people to ignore Kindred, appearing human, was one thing – telling them to turn a blind eye to monsters was another.

For so long, London had remained peaceful, and now it seemed all the powers of hell had descended upon the city at once. It was overwhelming, and I found myself sitting down, allowing the arguments to continue around me.

“Did none survive?” I asked of Thaddeus. The thought of the entire chantry perishing filled my heart with fear, for it could have been a crippling blow. Without their blood magic, there was no telling how we would overcome the new threat upon us.

[Thaddeus Post]

Thaddeus shook his head, "The neonates were no match for the demons that were spawned this night. As for the Regent, Brown-Turrel, or the other Elders in the chantry, I cannot tell. Yet." He looked over his shoulder at Jenny, who was calming the rat with a piece of bread. God knows where she'd gotten the bread, or how she'd managed to procure the rat, but she seemed to have a way about her when it came to such things. An invaluable assistant in every way.

The glance towards the ghoul took but a moment, and Post turned quickly back to the Prince. "For the moment I must assume that none survived, for it appears that the Eldest in the chantry were the ones that invited the demons entry. They called a great leviathan from the lake which was wreaking havok, but I believe I may have killed it. I checked the Malkavian cobweb, and it seems that the Tremere are falling to the Baa'li across the United Kingdom."

The gathered group of Kindred grew quiet at that revelation, and Post added, "I must speak to my rat." He turned and Jenny met him halfway with the plump rodent in hand.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod watched the events unfold with interest. Just when he thought the most interesting thing he'd see that night was a Nosferatu sitting across the table from him, the doors were blown off their hinges. Rod mused how often that happened in kindred society. At first, Rod was preoccupied with what Roland said into his phone, he was ordering a number of clean-up teams, but then something struck him dumbfounded. He knew the man who had just unceremoniously stormed into the dining room. There was no mistaking it: he was Thaddeus Petalas.

Awash with mixed feelings of awe and revulsion, it quickly dawned on him that this man was no longer the mortal man with whom he'd spent a great deal of his childhood. His old friend and mentor stood before him an embraced Cainite. Rod felt his heart swell with a quiet grief as he listened to Thaddeus discuss vampire matters with Rodermark. Prince Rodermark. So that is why he is so important to these people.

Swept up in the moment, Rod turned to Gabriel.

"Who are the Baa'li?"

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I listened to what Thaddeus had to say in silence. As he spoke, his words drew the attention of others, who gasped at the mention of chantry's falling across the country. I felt myself becoming numb. As Post departed Rod, who had been silent thus far, spoke up.

“The Baa'li are... a bloodline of Kindred, unlike any other. They are diabolists, whose sole purpose is to prepare the world for the coming of their infernal masters. They disguise themselves as members of other clans, and utilize a dark form of blood magic.”

It sounded completely ludicrous, but it was true. I covered my face with one hand, rubbing my eyes as I replied. I wasn't reacting as a Prince should have. I had to establish some kind of order... but how could I possibly order the others into battle against something we had so little knowledge of?

“Saul, Elizabeth,” I began, “contact the others. Have Greta and Marcus divide their followers up into hunting parties. I want people out in every major borough of the city. See if Greta can't drum up some support from any Lupines in the area. Roland will see to the clean-up. Make sure that a coterie heads to the chantry as soon as possible... recover anything that could be of use.”

[Thaddeus Post]

Thaddeus found an empty seat, incidentally the one vacated by the Ventrue Primogen, and sat in it, the rat held securely in one hand. Jenny retired to the far wall once more, keeping her suitcase company.

Without any further words Post placed the rat's face against his forehead and closed his eyes. The Watcher relayed to him all it had seen, beginning with the betrayal of the Regent by Clara Mandelbrot. Thaddeus grimaced as he saw the Secretary begin to drain Roderick Alan of his blood, but the vision of the rat was bouncing around as it appeared the creature had chosen the moment of her betrayal as a good time to leave.

[Rod Stafford]

When the Nosferatu bowed out of the meeting and Thaddeus took a seat next to him, blissfully unaware of his existence, Rod could do little else but sit deadly still in his chair and attempt to make sense of the proceedings. His hands clasped on the table and he stared into the flickering candle light while in deep thought. He found it difficult to focus, the feeling of being surrounded by a bunch of angry vampires was somewhat unnerving.

The situation seemed serious. There is always good cause to be concerned when a man in Gabriel's position is so evidently at a loss. Rod could see it in the vampire's eyes: their existence was under threat and he found it difficult to conjure up even the smallest morsel of sympathy for them. However, the Baa'li sounded like more than just an enemy of their kin and Rod pondered the matter further.

He cast Thaddeus a sideways glance but he was far too absorbed in his business with the rat. Then he looked back at Gabriel, who had just finished barking out further orders.

"What about Sansa?"

[Gabriel Rodermark]

What about Sansa? Her well-being had not escaped my mind – how could it, with the photographs burning a hole in my pocket – but how could I justify focusing energy into finding her when London was about to be ransacked by the minions of Hell? Had I not held the office of Prince, I might have been able to charge off after her, damning the others to whatever fate Ba'ali had in store for them... yet even if I had been able to act as such, I felt would not have done so. As much as it pained me, the safety of the city, of the population at large, outweighed that of one mortal woman.

“Our first priority is to expel the Baa'li from the city,” I replied, without looking towards Rod, my eyes instead on Thaddeus, for lack of anywhere else to look. “Once we have dealt with the most imminent threat, we can move on to other concerns.”

[Thaddeus Post]

Post caught a glimpse of William Brown-Turrel's head rolling on the ground in the view of the rat, before all became a jumbled mess of running through holes and walls and floors and around pipes and over -

He pulled the rat away from his head before he became to disoriented, and then set it carefully on the ground. It ran down the length of the table and then out towards the wall where it disappeared under a sideboard. He turned towards Rodermark, and noticed the young mortal he was sitting beside. "Oh, hello René." Thaddeus then looked at Gabriel, "It appears that Roderick was betrayed by his Secretary, Clara Mandelbrot. The Primogen was killed as well, though by whom I cannot be certain. Doubtless one of the Baa'li were responsible."

There was something about William's decapitated head that didn't jive with the Baa'li, but in the end it didn't matter. Brown-Turrel was dead. The Regent was dead. The chantry had fallen.

[Rod Stafford]

All he managed to do before Thaddeus's attention was diverted to Gabriel was throw him an incredulous glance. Rod asked himself how someone could be so blasé about seeing someone from nine hundred years ago. Then he recalled that Thaddeus had lived those nine hundred years and may well have been witness to far stranger things. A spark of envy flickered inside him; the thought of being able to live nine hundred years and experience so much made their hairs on the back his neck stand on end but Rod knew of the price the kindred paid for their immortality.

He thought of Sansa alone amongst those who murdered that young girl and was galvanised into speech. The sooner this matter was dealt with, the sooner they could rescue Sansa.

"What can I do?"

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Betrayed from within... it was not unthinkable. The old texts say that Caine was marked, that his children should eternally bicker and fight amongst one another, and whether or not you believe in such creation myths it is difficult to argue that the Kindred have broken free of this legendary curse. The Tremere especially were no strangers to cloak and dagger. A lust for power had beget the clan – it was only fitting that the same fanatical lust should be is downfall.

“What can I do?” Rod had asked. I narrowed my eyes slightly, looking down the length of the table towards the faces there. Already they were concocting their own plans of how to deal with the situation at hand. I could hear the cogs turning, the wheels being set in motion. It was times like these that I remembered how grateful I was to be surrounded by the likes of the Ventrue, who had become professional crisis controllers.

“Thaddeus... perhaps this young man can help you, if you can combine your talents. Rod is a Mage... Rod, Thaddeus is a member of clan Tremere. You will find no finer warlock in London.”

The words had no sooner left my mouth than I realized the morbid humor which they carried. At the time, I had been so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I had not noticed the fact that Thaddeus had previously addressed Rod, that they seemed to know one another somehow.

[Thaddeus Post]

Thaddeus nodded, "I would be most pleased to work with... Rod, is it now?"

The young man seemed to be goggling at him, mouth slightly open, but Post continued, "We have much to discuss, I am sure. However," he pushed himself up from the table, "I would like to get back to the chantry as soon as possible, my Lord. Rod, are you coming?" Thaddeus moved quickly, and Jenny detatched herself from the wall, suitcase in hand once more and a cautious glance cast in Rod's direction.

[Rod Stafford]

His head snapped from Thaddeus, who slipped between a squabbling congregation of vampires, and Gabriel, who had his fingers steepled and head bowed in deep thought. Rod pushed himself away from the table, his chair scraped on the varnished floor and he cringed. For a moment, he stared at his lap then looked around again. Thaddeus was nowhere to be seen.

He bolted up out of his seat, and swung hastily around the table, opting to walk around the vampires rather than through them. A ghoul stood in the doorway and toyed with one of the large doors in a vain attempt to reattach it to its hinges. The corridoor was smokey and a foul stench lingered in the air. Kindred bustled up and down the length of it, Rod gingerly slipped into their ranks. At the end of the corridoor, he found Thaddeus having a word with one of his kin. They parted ways and Rod followed him into the busy entrance hall.

"How are we to travel to your chantry, Thaddeus?"

[Thaddeus Post]

The Ventrue nodded to Thaddeus and backed away as the Elder vampire turned to regard Rod. "On foot of course, m' boy." He clapped Galanis on the back, pulling him in for a bear hug. "By God, it is good to see you."

Post released the young man, and held him at arms length, looking him up and down. "I heard that you had died! How come you to be here? No, there will be enough time for that later. But please, indulge an old man's curiosity when the time comes." Thaddeus winked, and let go of him all together. "This is Jenny, don't worry, she won't bite."

The dark haired beauty smiled at Rod, suitcase still firmly in hand. "Pleased to meet you, Rod."

Before the boy could react, Thaddeus was bustling them out of the manor and into the night. "We must get a move on, before the night begins to wane. I get such awful sunburn." Again the laugh, and then the Ventrue Post had been talking to before caught up to them while they were just outside the door.

"We have a car at your disposal, sir." The Kindred indicated a sedan, black of course, there was no surprise there.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod didn't laugh with Thaddeus. He was solemnly silent upon entering the car and didn't give Jenny as much as a sideways glance, even as she slid gracefully onto the leather seat next to him. Through the tinted glass he stared, marking in the pale faces outside the look of grave concern. They quickly re-entered the residence when the car pulled away.

Thaddeus spoke with the driver but his words went unheard, Rod was deep in thought. The night had been full of revelations and he was surrounded by undead and mixed up in undead dealings. His jaw clenched tight. He wanted to tell Thaddeus all that he thought and felt about vampires, about him and what he had become, and how it pained him to see him so comfortable with his evil ailment. But he remained mute.

[Thaddeus Post]

The car glided forward into the night, and Thaddeus seemed content to leave Rod alone in his thoughts. In actuality, he was concerned for the boy, and intensely interested in hearing his story. He was still a mortal, and yet was some how intact with his youth, some nine hundred years after he had been born.

Post crossed his arms, leaning back in the passenger seat and staring with sharp eyes out the window. He could hear Jenny wrestling with the suitcase in the backseat, and turned his mind to the chantry that they were driving towards.

Jenny pulled the small suitcase into her lap, and slowly undid the latches. Before she opened it, she looked curiously at the young man sitting next to her. "How do you know Thaddeus, then?" She opened the case, and rested the top against the back of the front seats. Inside were all manner of phials and containers, some arranged neatly, others appearing to have been thrown inside in a rush. There was a rumpled looking shirt inside as well, and a pair of lacy underwear.

The ghoul pushed most of it aside, digging carefully into the bottom of the case.

[Katarina Gordislava]

At the manor house where the Prince of London still sat, there was another commotion outside the dining hall as a young woman walked up the long drive towards the front door of the manor. She was clad all in black, and had bleached blonde hair.

"I come with a message for Prince Rodermark." She declared herself to the Kindred who blocked her way, watching them with the wary gaze of a caged beast.

[Rod Stafford]

At first, Jenny failed to grab his attention. Her voice was distant and his mind far away. The world beyond the glass passed by, blissfully unaware of the monsters that roamed amongst them. Rod frowned and slowly turned to the girl, she was looking at him.

"He was a friend of the family. He knew my father."

She nodded and went back to sifting through the contents of the briefcase. Rod eyed her with scrutiny; there was a natural colour to her skin, she was different.

"You're not one of them, are you?"

[Thaddeus Post]

Jenny pulled a bottle made of green glass out of the suitcase and held it up. Whatever was inside of it was moving around angrily of its own accord. "I am not." She frowned at the bottle, gave it a good shake, and then replaced it into the case on her lap. Her hands moved busily, arranging the contents to make sure nothing would get broken. She'd 'packed' in a great rush previously.

She looked over at the young man, and added, "I am a mortal, though not. They call ones such as myself ghouls. I was born in 1576, though if Thaddeus knew your father you much be much older than I."

Thaddeus leaned over the front seat, "Aye, technically he is, but I expect young Rod's story will be much different than your own, Jeanette." She smiled, and resumed arranging the suitcase while Post addressed Rod. "We're going to have a looksee around the chantry, before sunrise. Don't worry about Jenny, she's a fair hand with thaumaturgy herself, and she'll ward us against demons just to be on the safe side."

Jenny nodded, closing up the case finally. She held a small canister in one hand, the lid still closed tightly.

[Rod Stafford]

Some of the contents of the suitcase Rod found he could identify while others were entirely alien to him. He watched what Jenny did with great interest and spoke absently.

"Thaumaturgy."

Unlike most mages, he was not unfamiliar with the secret vampire magic due to a previous encounter with a vampire well versed in the discipline. The concept of vampire magic made him bitter, knowing that the Tremere were the cause of it all. His eyes narrowed.

"Tell me, Thaddeus, does your blood magic rely on the same alchemical reagents as your original art?"

[Thaddeus Post]

"Ah, now," Thaddeus raised an eyebrow. "That would be telling, wouldn't it." Jenny made a noise in her throat, and the Tremere's eyes softened. "But no, it does not."

The car slowed, and Post brightened, "We are here." He turned to give the driver some instructions, and Rod and Jenny got out of the backseat. She unscrewed the lid on the container in her hand, and revealed a reddish paste.

"If you do not mind, Master Rod." The ghoul dipped her middle finger into the mixture. "For the warding. Unless you'd rather be eaten up by a demon this night." She smiled almost merrily, but did not touch him, waiting for the mage to agree to her ministrations.

[Rod Stafford]

"Not at all," he answered.

She stepped forward and rasied her hand to admister the ward on his forehead but he stepped away and extended his hand. He wanted to see the inscription. Jenny obliged and drew a half moon in his palm. Inside the half moon she inscribed the alchemical symbol for a demon. He grinned.

"Thank you, Jenny."

For a moment, he fiddled with something behind his neck. There was a click and he pulled free a gold chain, from which hung a circle of gold and inside that circle, a triangle made up from four smaller triangles. He held the chain tight in his unpainted hand. He sniffed, there was sulphur in the air.

"Do these beasts fear fire?"

[Thaddeus Post]

"The demon itself will not. I saw only one, though there may be more now." Thaddeus strode around the car, presenting his forehead to Jenny who quickly scrawled the rune on his skin. She drew two on herself, one on her palm and the other on her forehead, while Post continued to talk.

"The Baa'li themselves are flamable, of course. And fire will slow the demon down, though not harm it much in the long run."

Jenny drew the two men in closer with a hand on the elbow of each, and held her palm face up in the midst of them. She muttered under her breath, clearly concentrating, and for a moment each of the inscriptions seemed to glow. The vitae contained within the paste was activated, and the warding was complete. "These will last for only an hour," she cautioned, screwing the lid on the container and tucking it into her pants pocket. "And they do not make you invisible, only to the otherworldly sort of Sight."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

At the manor house where the Prince of London still sat, there was another commotion outside the dining hall as a young woman walked up the long drive towards the front door of the manor. She was clad all in black, and had bleached blonde hair.

"I come with a message for Prince Rodermark." She declared herself to the Kindred who blocked her way, watching them with the wary gaze of a caged beast.

The young Lasombra was stalled only a moment before being escorted into my presence. The assembled members of the Camarilla looked upon her with glaring eyes, and I could see the weight of their attention upon her, as she stiffened under their gaze.

“Speak,” I commanded.

[Katarina Gordislava]

She stiffly held out an envelope towards the Prince, but did not actually hand it to him, or approach him any closer than she already was. These Cammies were strung tighter than piano wire and felt like they could snap at any moment. "The Archbishop has sent you a letter. As to its contents, I cannot guess."

A Ventrue retrieved the letter from her hand, and passed it over to Rodermark.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I saw the lips of the assembled Kindred mouth the word 'another' questioningly. The shock of Katarina's previous correspondence had barely dissipated. I broke the wax seal and carefully removed the letter from within. It was concise, and to the point, as I had come to expect of the Russian Archbishop. It seemed that the Baa'li curr had struck a nerve within the Sabbat camp. She desired a meeting with me and offered in return what she referred to as my 'precious ghoul' – Sansa.

Had I breath, I might had gasped or sighed. Roland, ever perceptive, noted the surprise – and relief – before I had pause to express it. “Sir?” he looked to me questioningly; the others mimicked. With no hint of ceremony or bravado, I annouced:

“I am to meet with the Archbishop of Moscow.”

[Katarina Gordislava]

The neonate watched everything with wary eyes. When nothing more was said in the collective silence after the Prince's announcement, she ventured, "I am to take your reply back to the Archbishop."

She paused, then added, "If you would but write it down."

[Gabriel Rodermark]

I cast my eyes here and there for the means to draft a letter, and found Roland – as always – resourceful. He handed me the necessary items.

“Inform your Archbishop that she will have her meeting,” I said, as I detailed the location of our liaison, agreeing to the stipulated terms of only three Kindred representing each faction. I did not seal or stamp the letter, though signed the note in a flourish of cursive that marked it as my own hand. “See to it that this reply reaches your Master before the night is out.”

[Katarina Gordislava]

"So it shall be," She sketched a bow, backing up with the folded letter clutched close to her breast. The edges of her form became misty, and then the Lasombra dissolved into shadows, disappearing into the floor.

[Gabriel Rodermark]

Barely had the young Lasombra left the building when the uproar began.

“You can't be serious!”

“Meeting when the enemy?”

“This is madness!”

My voice carried above all of them.

“I will have none of this insurrection!”

The Primogen looked amongst themselves. Saul frowned, tight-lipped. Elizabeth seemed to stiffen – she looked as though she had sipped some sour milk. Roland and the Ventrue were the only party without protest. I stood at the head of the table.

“This meeting is over. You are all dismissed.”