Thread: Meeting Victoria Wentworth (Attn: ST & Stan)

Stan nods to Corin but remains quite as they head into the building. Once they exit the elevator Atan looks around quickly as he turns to the pair.

"Corin this is Lady Victoria Wentworth, Lady Wentworth this is Corin of clan Gangrel."

With that he turns and moves into the area leaving the two to talk as he watches out the windows.

"Lady Wentworth, it's nice to finally put a face with a name."

Corin watches Victoria, almost studying her.

Victoria smiles warmly despite her very vampiric appearance, her hair shines bright like corn silk in these lights and her body moves with a grace that is easily equated to that of a big game cat, powerful and purposeful ... stalking.

"It is good to meet a friend I did not know that I have, however, I am not one to easily dismiss the words of one such as our mutal friend Stan. No one would be wise to... and for the chance to meet another of the noble beasts in this city ... well, it was surely worth the trip."

"So, do tell, how is it that you know me... I presume by something more than reputation or I would not be here?"

She looks over at Stan, then back at Victoria.

"Stan called me up, I believe it was shortly after your arrival. He said I needed to talk to you about this."

She moves her shirt to reveal Lady Wentworths Ahnk.

"Apparently Stan had a vision about it."

Victoria's eyes widen. "And on the heels of news that one battle in the war is over... it returns to us." She extends her hand as if to touch it but holds back her hand.

"How did it come into your possession?"

"It was a gift from my fiance. How he came across it I am not sure."

Victoria nods slowly, deep thought lining her face and consideration. "And... do you know what importance this ankh holds? Do you have any idea what it would mean to those who know it's ... origins?"

She shakes her head.

"Unfortunatly no. I haven't been able to do any research on it."

"I remember the night I first laid eyes upon it." Victoria says softly, her eyes fixed on some distant place. "My windpipe was crushed and my eyes bulging out of their sockets as life was being strangled out of me and my body assulted." She holds out her hand as if she means to touch it but never comes that close.

"I could feel the blood bubbling in my lungs as I struggled against him, my hair falling from the place it had been pinned up as I thrashed in the way desperate souls do in the moment before their death..." Her eyes seem to see Corin for a moment, "... with a strength greater than the eldest potence, such is the fevor of a human soul when nothing else is left."

She pauses. There is an empty silence that seems to be her remembering again as her eyes go glassy once more, memories seeming to dance across her mind. "The gash was... so deep." Another pause. "It's cold metal in my grip felt like hot fire because the blood was already going dead within me." Her voice goes to an even lower whisper. "Until his blood hit my lip." Again looking to Corin. "I stole his blood and he let go of my throat, pulling away from me to laugh. My god... that laugh..."

She looks at the floor and then raises her chin, definant, strong and seeming to send away the demons of her past. "And that was the way of it. My sire never would have made a woman save for one who was strong enough at the moemnt of her death to try to steal her salvation and that... in your possession, was the instrument by which I did just that."

"It was crafted by an Egyptian Toreador who ment to gain my sire's allegence." She pauses. "My sire took the gift and had her strung out for the sun for some insult that I can't recall. Hardestadt was never one to take an insult with grace... most especially not from a woman." she chuckles as if this is some very great joke.

"But what can you expect from such a creature as he? Surely had I the blood of my Grandsire, his successes, and the background from which he came I, too, might feel as a God striding the earth's face too, yes?"

"I took it as my sigil, my dear, it is the mark of all my seals and everything I have ever called my own. There are few elders in Europe who would not know that object to carry the weight of my word with it... both allies and enemies alike. Any who wore it might well speak with my word or be my hated enemy if they misused such an item. Stan is most right to have brought you here to me as there can only be two ends to this... either you will recieve a bounty for having brought the original back to me after it's long years away - or - I let you keep it and we come to an agreement upon the nature of our alliance for none who see you wearing it could think you anything but my ally or servant. Not as a matter of insult but as a matter of facts."

"I will, of course, mean to reclaim it upon the event of your untimely demise in either case."