The Prince and the Pauper (complete)

[Dimitri Vojslav]

A discreetly-aquired, but by no means discreet-looking, black limosine cruised through the white streets of St. Petersburg, all wrapped up in the comfort of the night sky. The snow fell thick and heavy, smothering the road, pavement and buildings. The limosine rolled silently until it came to Isaakiyevskaya Square where the driver circled the monument of Nicholas I. After bringing the vehicle to a stop beside the pavement, the driver exited and jogged around to the door near the back, but it opened before he could get there.

"Do not worry, chauffeur. I am far too anxious to wait for your unnecessary assistance. I will likely be quite some time."

After closing the door, Dimitri turned in his immaculate dark grey suit to greet the impressive facade of the Cathedral of St. Isaac of Dalmatia. Before he started forward in his ostentatious suit and top hat, the cainite flicked a discarded empty bottle from his path with his cane. He then ascended towards the sentinel-like monolithic columns of Karelian granite.

[Niccoli Cento]

Midnight Mass was concluding, and Father Nicholas was down at the altar serving the communion meal to the few who had braved the snow to worship. The doors opened and a tall, pale man entered. Niccoli's eyes picked out the fine cut of his suit, even from such a distance, and then he looked down at the old woman in front of him.

He popped the wafer into her mouth, inscribed the sign of the cross over her and motioned to another priest to finish up the mass with the benediction. The man who had entered... was no mere kine. The Cardinal made eye contact with the Cainite, a silent warning for him to keep his peace, at least until the end of Mass.

[Dimitri Vojslav]

Maintaining that eye contact already established, Dimitri slowly sat down in one of the rear pews. Several beggars and lowlifes, clearly there to escape the snow, passed by. One of them stopped and asked Dimitri if he could spare any change.

"Change?"

"Just enough to buy a warm cup of soup perhaps? I beg you sir!"

Dimitri gave a silent snarl with his lips, showing a hint of his fangs to the old crone.

"It is through politeness and decency alone, not fear of your God, that I choose not to paint some hellish tryptich masterpiece on the walls using your insides for a palette..."

The old lady turned and shuffled herself outside before he could finish. Dimitri's eyes followed her until she was gone. He looked in disgust towards the open doorway.

"Peasant."

He turned back towards the altar at the far end of the cathedral. The Cardinal looked like he was almost finished. Dimitri rose out of the pew and slowly walked with an untangible malevolence down the long aisle.

[Niccoli Cento]

Mass ended - the beggars and insomniacs departed. The assisting priest left as well, he was an entranced ghoul and would do anything for the young Father Nicholas.

Clad in his priestly robes, Niccoli remained at the front of the church. A pair of hulking Brujah antitribu came out of the woodwork, stopping the visitor before he could get too close to the Cardinal. The presence of other Cainites was thick in the air, eyes watching. Waiting.

Niccoli waited for the Tzimisce to introduce himself. No one came to the cathedral unless they were stupid, or knew who he was.

[Dimitri Vojslav]

Dimitri paused at the last row of pews before the steps that led up to the elaborate altar which the Cardinal stood in front of. Completely ignorant of the accompanying Brujah, Dimitri did not bow, though politely removed his hat before the Cardinal.

'Cardinal Nicholas. I am Dimitri Vojslav. I have come seeking an audience with you to discuss my place in these modern nights."

[Niccoli Cento]

Niccoli gazed down at the newcomer, and nodded, slowly. "Vojslav of the Tzimisce? Your reappearance is ... as unexpected as it is perfectly timed."

He descended the steps, and motioned to the other Cainite, "I have time now, if you would care to join me downstairs." One of the Brujah walked towards a door to the side of the altar, opening it and going through. The other hung back, still watching the Tzimisce with untrusting eyes.

[Dimitri Vojslav]

Dimitri gave a cold, dead smile as he eyed the cur by the door.

"Excellent Cardinal. It will be a pleasure to converse with another Kindred after so long - despite torpor, the years did not pass by with haste."

Dimitri approached the meathead by the door, with the Cardinal following closely in unison with the second antitribu. The Brujah led them down a cramped, spiral stone staircase into the catacombs of the great cathedral.

"Tell me Cardinal - how is the new millennium treating you? I cannot say I'm surprised to find that everything is still here." he added with a self-righteous smirk.

[Niccoli Cento]

"Well enough," Niccoli replied shortly. "Much has changed since your time, Vojslav. The Silver Fang tribes pose little threat to the Cainites in Russia - their infighting and civil wars keep them busy."

At the bottom of the spiral stairs, they were led into an opulant study, lined with bookshelves and with several reading nooks. Niccoli ignored the large mahogany desk, picking a pair of wingback chairs instead. Sitting down, he crossed his legs underneath the priestly robes he still wore. He knew Vojslav by reputation - they had had little to do with each other before the Tzimisce had dropped off the map in 1885. Incidentally it had been rumored that the disappearance and presumed death of Dimitri had paved the way for Niccoli to declare for Russia. Had Vojslav still been present, no doubt his strong Russian heritage and strength among the Tzimisce clans would have caused considerable trouble for Cento.

But he had not been around, and Niccoli had cemented a private deal with the Silver Fang queen which led to the resurgence of Cainite dominance in Russian cities. He idly stroked the arm of the chair as the two antitribu took themselves out of the study, presumably to wait outside. "There is some recent concern about an outbreak of Baa'li activity in England, of all places."

[Dimitri Vojslav]

Dimitri broke out into an unexpected bout of mild laughter.

'Well then I must say I am surprised to hear that! Harbingers in the British Isles, that is interesting. I would have wagered that the Inquisition would surely have exterminated their foul hides by now. Tell me Cardinal; when did they rear their ugly heads and what parlour tricks have they displayed thus far?"

He spoke in an extremely patronising manner directed at the subject matter rather than Niccoli. who appeared not to take offence to Dimitri's behaviour.

[Niccoli Cento]

"Oh, the Baa'li are still around, no matter how much it is protested that their 'clan' was demolished. I suspect there is a great presence of them in the Americas, though that is the Regent's affair and not my own. No, this outbreak was apparently brought about by some..." he hesitated, then went on, "rogue Tremere, though all Tremere can be called rogue, really. The Camarilla tolerate the warlocks in their midst and this is the thanks they recieve for it."

A smile traced his lips, "Poetic, really, until one considers that the Baa'li's goals theaten us all. They came on the scene only a few days ago. I have one of my Archbishops in London on an unrelated task, and she is organizing what Sabbat exist in the UK against the demon worshippers."

[Dimitri Vojslav]

A subtle anger became apparent in Dimitri's face at the Cardinal's mention of the Tremere. But it was short-lived as Dimitri's visage took on an aspect of satisfaction as the Tzimisce reflected on past dealings with the Tremere clan.

"The Tremere! Ha! Their blood is not their own, nor is their power. It seems I did give them a taste of things to come in our last encounter."

The Cardinal went on to mention that the Sabbat presence in London had already began to mobilize against the Baali threat. Dimitri thought that perhaps this could be an opportunity in which to prove himself to the already-suspicious rube. Though something else caught his attention

"I notice you are titled Cardinal and you have an archbishop for a subordinate. Forgive my unfamiliarity with Sabbat customs as my brood remained largely independent after its formation, but are these some sort of authoritative positions or ranks?"

[Niccoli Cento]

Niccoli raised an eyebrow at the elder Tzimisce's question. "The Sabbat structure has always been ao: The Regent is the head of the Sabbat, and the Prisci are his circle of advisors. Underneath the Prisci are Cardinals, such as myself, who oversee large geographic regions." His tone took a slightly condescending tone, though there was more to this canny Tzimisce than met the eye. He obviously knew that Niccoli, a Cardinal, was the one Cainite in charge of Russia, and had sought him out.

But he would humor his question and answer it anyway, if only to see where Vojslav would take the discussion from there. "And then the Archbishops, who look after cities, and direct the Bishops, who have control of several packs each." A thought occured to him, and he added, "Katarina Gordislava, the Archbishop of Moscow, is in London currently facing the Baa'li threat. I have been informed that she has made some sort of pact with the resident Camarilla Prince, Gabriel Rodermark, until such time as the Baa'li have been eliminated."

Niccoli paused, studying Dimitri's pale face. He bore no outward signs of vicissitude, but that did not mean that he was not gifted in the Tzimisce's flesh sculpting craft. That thought reminded him of sweet Eszerbet, tucked away in Hungary, and then of the prize that resided in his deepest basement. He returned to the current discussion quickly.

"It would be a shame if anything were to happen to her while she is away from her city."

[Dimitri Vojslav]

The fiend cocked an eyebrow. The mention of Moscow struck a chord deep inside as the cogs started to turn.

"How true, Cardinal. Though weak, the Baali are as zealous as the Brujah..."

Dimitri threw a look of pity over at the antitribu near the door.

"I must say, judging by the look of your warhounds, and the malcontents I have witnessed since my return to the waking world, it seems Carthage was not enough of a downfall."

Returning his attention to the Cardinal, he continued.

"Tell me Cardinal, would you deem this woman capable of handling the situation in London?"

[Niccoli Cento]

"Capable?" Niccoli paused as though the thought had never occured to him before. "Katarina is one of my most capable Archbishops. Which is why she is in London in the first place. I wished to destabilize the region and sway it back to the Sabbat. Great Britain has been in Camarilla hands for far too long.

"Of course, with the new situation on the island, she may need further assistance. We do not want the demon worshippers to have free reign, and as goes London, so does the rest of the United Kingdom." Another, slight, hesitation. "It would be an arduous task to attempt to replace her, should she fall in the fight against the Baa'li."

[Dimitri Vojslav]

"Indeed. I imagine Cainites possessing the qualities required by an Archbishop must be in short supply."

He picked up a small, antiquated globe and pin-pointed England with the acute nail of his index finger. He spun the globe and without looking up, spoke...

"Perhaps it would aid the Sabbat in this Baali business if I were to travel to London and provide whatever assistance to Katarina that I can, thus safeguarding not only her well-being but the Sabbat's eventual takeover of London. It might put your mind at rest so that you may concentrate on other matters..."

He then speared the spinning globe with uncanny precision, his nail impaling a region of Russia, roughly where Moscow was located.

"Consider it a personal favour, Cardinal."

[Niccoli Cento]

Niccoli smiled. His humble priestly robes seemed out of place in the opulance of the study, but he radiated a presence that superceded his clothing. "That would be most satisfactory.

"Oh - " he raised one finger, "There is one more item you should know about the situation in London. The Archbishop's Vizier is a Tremere antitribu."

[Dimitri Vojslav]

A malevolent smile passed over Dimitri's face.

"Ah, what a delight it shall be to exchange words with a member of the Tremere clan after so long. I trust the usurpers are as paranoid as ever!?"

He grasped his chin in speculation as all sorts of wonderful ideas popped into his tenebrous brain.

"Do you know - I think in a few years time there will be a Tremere on every mantlepiece, so that the landlord can show it off to guests and say 'Yes, do you remember these? Fascinating to watch but nothing very useful once you get inside them. Anyway, let's move on shall we?'...as a sort of reminder of how ... not to do it. I'll keep an eye on the whelp should he choose to follow suit with the Camarilla traitors."

Maintaining eye contact with the Cardinal, he placed the dusty globe back on the mirrored surface of the polished mahogany table beside him before leaning forward slightly.

"What can you tell me about the London Camarilla?"

[Niccoli Cento]

Niccoli pretended to find the Tzimisce's rant about the Tremere amusing, but in truth he only hated one Tremere. If not for Vishnyakov, Katarina would have been ousted long ago. Taken out, as it were, before she even had a chance.

"Their Prince is Gabriel Rodermark, a Toreador. He enjoys the favor of the clans, but has let his Primogen make too many decisions without him as of late. With this latest escapade with the Baa'li..." Cento shrugged his slim shoulders. "The Archbishop has already laid the seeds of his destruction by simply being in the city. It is possible that the Prince could be removed by his Primogen if the Baa'li situation drags on. The city will descend even further into chaos and out of Camarilla control. Which is most agreeable to us."

[Dimitri Vojslav]

"A Degenerate sits upon the London throne!? Oh, this is too hilarious. The final nights must truly be on their way with such insanity in the air. No doubt his heart endlessly bleeds for the lives lost during these incidents. I look forward to hearing his lament for the dead he no doubt composes as we speak."

Dimitri placed his clasped hands in his lap as he sat back in the elaborate chair.

"I trust arrangements can be made for my journey to England? You are aware that a Cainite such as myself has particular...needs, yes?"

[Niccoli Cento]

"But of course." Niccoli pulled a PDA from a concealed pocket in his robes and made a notation on it. "My Lear jet will be standing by for you tomorrow night, or if you'd like to depart straight away I can arrange for a flight before dawn."

The Cardinal smiled, "Windowless, of course, and a very smooth ride." He tucked the PDA away once more, "There are even mid-flight snacks provided."

[Dimitri Vojslav]

The Tvarvich gave a content smile that still managed to appear ghastly despite its genuiness.

"Tomorrow night will be most convenient. There are several things I must tend to before this evening draws to a close.."

Dimitri lifted his sleev slightly and glanced down at his ornate, chrome Raymond Weil wristwatch. The time was approaching one o'clock. He nodded to himself before smiling and holding his arm up for the Cardinal.

"I took the liberty of aquiring some...I believe the term used is bling? Very nice indeed!"

Shaking his arm, the sleeve of his jacket fell back over his wrist, concealing the watch once more.

"I believe I have taken up enough of your precious time Cardinal so I shall not plague you with further questions. However, I wonder if you could tell me about this Archbishop of yours...Katarina?"

[Niccoli Cento]

"One of my most favorite of subjects." Niccoli was not sure how much he trusted the elder before him, but he seemed quite capable of reading between the lines. Which was a very useful gift. "She is Lasombra, and quite gifted in the area of leadership. Katarina was at odds with the former Archbishop of Moscow, and he sent assassins after her because of her outspoken opposition. But, instead of dying like a good Bishop, she took his job."

He smiled slightly, "The oldest rule, of course, is that those who have power must be able to keep it, of course. And she has done a very good job cementing her position in Moscow. She is nearly untouchable. The warlock she keeps with her helps - one cannot tangle with the one without getting the horns of the other."

[Dimitri Vojslav]

"Those who understand true power know exactly how to deal with such petty conjurers. Let us hope Katarina has chosen a vizier and not a knife with which to cut her own throat."

Dimitri motioned as if to rise, but hesitated. He then lowered his body into the seat once more...

"Forgive me Cardinal. But before I bid you goodnight, I wonder if you could share one final topic that I would greatly appreciate...regarding the current state and affairs of my own clan in these modern nights, along with whom I might contact to re-establish myself."

[Niccoli Cento]

Ah. A more touchy subject. Niccoli settled back in his chair. "The Tzimisce are not the clan you remember. They used to be untouchable, but this is not the case anymore. For more detailed information you would have to ask a clan member - there are a few Bishops that are Tzimisce here in this city, and several packs." The Cardinal rattled off a few names.

"In Hungary there is a Tzimisce Elder with quite a large holding of land and power over the local population, but she is mostly reclusive. She is called Erszerbet - you may know of her from before." A smile touched his face as he recalled Erszerbet's delicate, girlish features. "The Tzimisce are, as always, an invaluable part of the Sabbat, even though they have lost much of their former glory in the world of mortals.

"Caine comes, and we prepare the way together to Gehenna."

[Dimitri Vojslav]

Thunder boomed amidst the clouds in the night sky as a storm settled over St. Petersburg. The night life scattered from wherever it lingered to seek shelter from the coming rain, darting into the nearest club or bar. And below the cathedral, in that musty, quiet, furnished basement hollow, Dimitri silently screamed in fury behind a calm exterior. He slowly rose, placing his hat atop his lofty stature.

"That is unfortunate news, Cardinal. My only regret is that I was underground. Had I been active, I would have made sure such a downfall never came to pass. As for this Erszerbet, I cannot say I know of her - my brood did not embrace women...at least not while I was around..."

Dimitri thought about shaking the Cardinal's hand for a split second, but decided not to on the grounds that the Monarchy was above the Church.

"Cardinal, I thank you for taking the time to speak with me but I must be going now. I am sure you yourself have things to attend to. So until tomorrow night..."

Dimitri gave a curt smile.

[Niccoli Cento]

"Until then." Niccoli nodded, and rose only after Dimitri was on his feet. The Tzimisce was shown out, and the Cardinal retreated to his desk. Vojslav was a new and powerful player, and would bear watching.

His hand lingered over the phone, hesitating before picking it up. Katarina should be informed that Vojslav would be arriving, but what would be the fun in that? Niccoli picked up an ink pen instead, pulling out a sheet of paper and positioning it on the desk top before him. A letter of introduction for the Tzimisce to present upon his arrival would do just as well.

A sly smile worked its way onto the Cardinal's soft features, and he began to write. If both Dimitri and Katarina survived the Baali, then perhaps the Tzimisce would make a fine Archbishop of London. The pen scratched across the paper.

The next night, a comfortable black sedan awaited Dimitri Vojslav outside the cathedral, to take him to the airport and his chartered flight.