(( oc: The scene that follows is not to be replied to. Your character does not know what's written here. This is the second of our glimpses into what the npcs are doing. The prose that follows is meant as entertainment and to place emphasis on the fact that, even if your characters aren't following up on plotlines... then npcs aren't waiting around. In a world of darkness that may come to an end (gehenna) the sense of urgency for our players is paramount. We want you to know the clock has been ticking, is ticking, and will keep ticking until you stop it somehow... and, ideally, you'll use the resources at your disposal (npcs, sheet stats, etc) to 'save the day' ... at least until another threat to your way of life comes in. ALL THAT SAID - if you don't want to read what the npcs are up to... don't read beyond this point. I'll warn you - it's good, but some of you may not like to know oocly before you do icly. You've been warned. ))
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Gregory Osgood III walked into the simple modular home in the suburbs of Lamar looking for some paperwork he needed for closing on a business deal. Few people knew the wealthy, good looking, and powerful Ventrue kept havens such as this in the city and that was the way Greg wanted it. He had things... not just buisness, but people too, that he cared about that he would rather not have shared with any other undead soul. They were his final treasures of life... not the booze or women that so many thought he cared only for.

Smiling at the picture of his "wife" and "son" he penned a quick note to her stating that he was going out of town again and would be home next week at some point. He hoped that Ben got over his flu and suggested stopping into see Dr. Wilson as soon as possible. He loved them both... and would see them soon. Hugs and Kisses.

*****SHATTER*****
*****BOOM******

The window exploded and the door came down before Greg even had put the pen down on the paper. Five people came into the room with speed and strength overwhelming. His fortitude held against their strength for a while, even his presence sent some of them running and the surprise of knowing Protean cost one of them his eye... but they were five, and he was only one. It was a numbers game now, his body could only hold so much blood. One last glance to his beautiful wife and his sweet child Ben in the photo, their faces seeming to glow in the sunlight, and then there was only darkness.

==================== Later That Night ======================

The old city hall of Pitsburg glowed with flickering gas light and smelled of old vitae. The furniture was a rich blackened leather made from the finest in Tremere flesh that the Bishop's packs could bring him and occasionally they squeeked in pain. Of course he could have stopped their noises but they brought him such pleasure and his underlings seemed unnerved by it so... why change a good thing?

At his feet, chained and missing some of her skin, lay the holy nun Mary. What a shock it had been that she wasn't exactly what he had been told... yet, her power had proven useful in finding where and when Alec Voss would be vulnerable and best able to be assaulted.

"Bishop?" The Lasombra questioned him, drawing him back from his thoughts of Voss' exquisite taste. "Did you..."

"Yes, yes, I heard you. Osgood is dead and his blood has empowered the Sword of Caine, very good." He looks down to Mary and speaks with the honeyed tongue of a lover preparing to bed his mate, "So... correct two times and the second more impossible to know than the first. I do believe you now Mary." He brushes a hand across her cheek and she shudders. "You must not fear now sweetling... I have no reason to punish you as I did before. In fact, you're gift will be held in highest regard and esteem and you will live a very long, busy, life at my side."

Mary whimpers a prayer to God, and the Tzimisce smiles. "Now... tell me where I can find something powerful enough to get me past the Camarilla's Archons and Justicar into that city to find our dear little Rosaline BEFORE those fools. And preferably something strong enough to kill them all in the process."

Mary whimpers, "It doesn't work that way... I told you I can't just..."
The Bishop clicks his tongue. "Now what did I say about that word, can't? I suppose you just need some incentive."

"No... no... please!"

"I'm sorry but if you can't call forth your power on your own my dear, I'm going to have to help you." Turning to his left the Bishop picks up a bloodied scalpel. "Now, again, find me something strong enough to defeat the Justicar and his mindless minions AND track Rosaline down."
As her skin comes off in sheets Mary screams and babbles madly, in the mix of her insanity comes truth... the malkavians in the room smile with giddy glee as she gibbers about mortals who have been mentally tampered with, mortals with the power to do so much more than even Kindred could ever do... weapons, seers, and more.

"Now... where are these mortals?" He grins a wicked grin and leans in waiting for her whispered and pain wracked answer.


================= At that same moment =================


Lazarus' phone rings.

It's Osgood's head ghoul... the news isn't good.

Lamar has just lost yet another elder to an unknown diablorist.

Three in less than a year - a large number for any domain, really.

The question now is... who would be next?

Is anyone at all safe?