Short days ago they lived, felt dawn, watched sunset glow (Wed. 4/4/07, François/Leo)

[Detritus]

((This thread title uses the full allotment of characters available for thread titles, incidentally.))

After Anneke dismisses the meeting, Roman takes you and Wynn to his truck. The mood during the ride is subdued, as you each think about what could be at stake tonight. When you get to the art museum, a handful of vehicles are already in the parking lot, and at least a dozen other people besides those you met with last night are there.

One car is separate from the others, and Roman parks his pickup nearby. Benny and the three Garou from last night's meeting are by this car, as are two strangers, a man and a woman. Diana greets you once everyone has exited Roman's truck.

"I hope this evening finds everyone well. I have the pleasure to introduce the other sept leaders with a presence in the area."

Diana introduces the woman as Caroline, and the man as Daniel. After she names you to the other sept leaders, Daniel speaks.

"Is it true, what Diana says, that you will aid us in raising a caern within city limits?" Doubt tinges his facial expression, and Caroline wears a similarly dubious look, though she says nothing.

[Huxley]

Leo shuffles along wordlessly , positioning himself near the back of the group and keeping himself covered as he did at the previous meeting.

[Brother Brian]

Francois gazes at Leo momentarily, and speaks in a voice of leadership.

"It is true. I have met with our leaders, and we have scouted out potential locations. They will discuss them with you, and I am confident we will find one that is mutually agreeable. Further, we have made preperations to have a Kindred defense established around the parameter of the area, to assist in giving you the time needed to complete your rituals. This we give you as a gift, as proof of our intent to live with you in peace to our mutal benefit."

[Detritus]

"That's... irregular," Caroline says. "Would it be possible for me to attend this meeting that Diana has spoken of?"

"Me, too," Daniel puts in.

[Brother Brian]

"I have no objections to that", says Francois. After a brief pause he says to Diana, "Will it be the three of you attending the meeting? If a larger retinue is required for you, I would like to prepare our host with that knowledge, to prevent any misunderstand as to your intent. It would be unseemly for a larger group to be misconstrued as a war party."

[Detritus]

"Paavo and Niobe should not be displaced," Diana replies, "yet it is also important for the other sept leaders to attend the meeting. Can you accommodate a Garou contingent of five? Caroline and Daniel will honor the truce as those of us last night did."

"Of course," says Caroline, and Daniel nods his head in agreement.

[Brother Brian]

"Indeed, five will be fine. I will have preperations made to accomidate this number."

[Detritus]

Daniel and Caroline step away for a bit to inform their fellow sept members that they're going to the meeting...

[Brother Brian]

Does Francois have a text/cell phone or email for any of the Prince's council or the prince herself?

[Detritus]

Does Francois have a text/cell phone or email for any of the Prince's council or the prince herself?
You can call or text any of Bonnie, Anneke, or Dee Dee.

[Brother Brian]

You can call or text any of Bonnie, Anneke, or Dee Dee.

I'll text each of them.

Expect 5 for our meeting. All have agreed to terms of peaceful conduct. All are aware that we will have a force to defend them in their ritual. It would not be inappropriate to have that force visable when they arrive.

[Detritus]

You receive a short reply from Bonnie after a couple of minutes:

Acknowledged. We'll be waiting outside the jazz hall.

[Detritus]

Once François has spread the word that he's informed the Powers That Be of the increase in Garou attendees, you all go over to the jazz hall. Bonnie stands between Anneke and Elliott before the main entrance, and the various patrol groups (as specified here (http://forum.criticalfumble.net/showpost.php?p=360083&postcount=11)) line the path from the sidewalk. The Seneschal turns toward the new arrivals with a pleasant, expectant look on her face.

[Brother Brian]

Francois steps forward.

"Milord and ladies", he intones formally, "as is my duty and honor, I present unto you Diana, Paavo, Niobe, Daniel, and Caroline, of the Garou." He gestures towards each as he says their name. "They have come to have peaceful discourse with us, with such intented guaranteed."

Francois' eyes scan all assmembled kindred as he says his next piece, "By my blood, I have guaranteed to them our peaceful intentions. Let any who have issue with our newfound allies then bring such issue to me, that they may find satisfaction."

[Detritus]

"Welcome, honored guests. I am Bonnie, of clan Toreador, Seneschal of New Orleans. I will be conducting you to the meeting with the Prince shortly. My escort for this evening, Elliott Sinclair, and Anneke, the military leader of the city, both also of clan Toreador."

"Seneschal," Diana replies in formal tones, "thank you for your welcome. We have not yet given our tribal affiliations, so may I introduce Paavo of the Stargazers tribe, Niobe of the Fianna, Daniel of the Silent Striders, and Caroline of the Glass Walkers. And I am Diana of the Silver Fangs." Bonnie inclines her head in acknowledgment.

"Be advised that you are about to enter one of the sites that is termed Elysium in our society," the Seneschal says. "Violence is prohibited in Elysium, and those among the Kindred who violate this stricture are punished, often quite severely. We shall not put Monsieur Petit's blood at risk during the meeting.

"However, our enemies do not respect this custom, and therefore we will guard the meeting site against any possible disruption. Anneke will have the command of this company, which will be comprised of those to either side of the walkway here. They'll also be involved in helping to protect the ritual site, when that time comes." Niobe looks along both lines of Kindred with a critical eye, but keeps any conclusions she reaches to herself.

"We'll want to integrate our commands for the ritual," Anneke says, "or at the very least have the two sets of guards thoroughly familiarize themselves with each other. So as not to risk Monsieur Petit's blood during the establishment of the caern."

"Of course," Diana says. "As soon as this meeting is over..."

"Please follow me," Bonnie says. "Elliott and I will remain in the building after taking you to the Prince and the Justicar, as a last line of defense, but we will not be part of the meeting itself." Several of the Garou raise an eyebrow at this pronouncement, but remain silent.

Elliott then follows Bonnie inside as Diana takes the lead amongst the Garou.

[Detritus]

Caroline hangs back as the other Garou file into the jazz hall behind Bonnie and Elliott, assaying a look that's some blend of curiosity and puzzlement.

"We know so very little about each other. From what little I know of your Kindred, I am surprised to learn that the Toreador will be the leaders in the field. They are artists much more than warriors, are they not?"

[Brother Brian]

Caroline hangs back as the other Garou file into the jazz hall behind Bonnie and Elliott, assaying a look that's some blend of curiosity and puzzlement.

"We know so very little about each other. From what little I know of your Kindred, I am surprised to learn that the Toreador will be the leaders in the field. They are artists much more than warriors, are they not?"

"Indeed that is their nature, but Anneke has proven herself worthy, despite the handicap of her clan." Francois says softly.

[Detritus]

"From what little we know of the Garou, you have a deep respect for pedigree," Wynn says to Caroline. "Her warrior's pedigree is impeccable, as you might yet learn for yourselves, should the Justicar take the field tonight. She is evidently known to your kind as The White Spirit, and Anneke is one of her offspring."

Caroline looks ahead to Niobe for a moment before replying.

"And Niobe was fine with proceeding after learning of the involvement of The White Spirit?"

"It caused her some distress, but my impression was that she did not have the final say in the matter."

"She is a Garou of some importance, but not so much as either Diana or Paavo. Either would have been able to overrule her." Wynn simply nods, and the conversation turns to idle topics during the remainder of the walk to the balcony level. Bonnie leads everyone to the largest of the balconies, opening directly towards the stage at the far end of the main hall, and declaims your arrival.

"Majesty, Sire, our embassy to the Garou has returned with several of the leaders of the local septs." The Seneschal waves everyone to enter. The Prince and Justicar both stand at the very front of the balcony. Rebekka wears a conservative gray business suit with heels, and Gwynnis wears a black jacket and slacks relieved by a pastel green shirt, and her shoes are flat, accentuating the advantage in height that the Prince has over the Justicar.

"May I present Diana of the Silver Fangs, Paavo of the Stargazers, Niobe of the Fianna, Daniel of the Silent Striders, and Caroline of the Glass Walkers. Honored guests, may I introduce you to Her Majesty the Prince of New Orleans, Rebekka of clan Tremere, and Gwynnis, Justicar of clan Toreador."

"Thank you, Seneschal," Rebekka says. Bonnie makes the slightest of bows before withdrawing to return to the main lobby with Elliott. "On behalf of the Kindred of the city, welcome to New Orleans."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Diana replies. "White Spirit." The Justicar quirks an eyebrow in surprise.

"I haven't been named that in quite some time. It seems my reputation precedes me."

"I thought you would be taller," Niobe says, eliciting a smirk from Gwynnis.

"Charmant, Fianna. You would fit right in with the Toreador, assuming a proper level of artistic talent, of course. I'm always on the lookout for promising new recruits." A touch of malevolence enters the Justicar's smile, and she flashes her fangs for just an instant.

"She is one of the finest bards in the country," Paavo says, cutting off Niobe's retort, his face and voice smooth, but his eyes sharp as awls. "On occasion, overweening pride in her abilities compromises her judgment as to when it is best to speak, and when to remain silent."

[Detritus]

Niobe flushes at the rebuke from Paavo, but holds her tongue.

"Perhaps if we moved on to the business at hand," Rebekka says.

"Agreed," replies Diana, "but I believe that this last little exchange falls under relevant business. For as much as it has been stressed that for this once, harmony between our kinds is to be maintained above all else, I despair that it will not be taken to heart by all who are involved in our joint venture." Diana turns a level gaze on Niobe, whose flush deepens.

"Perhaps all of those whom you lead will exhibit better discipline, yet I have been shown one reason to suspect that that will not be the case." Diana turns her gaze to Gwynnis, but it does not have much of an effect on the Justicar's sardonic grin.

"We'll skip the lesson on Kindred politics for now, but you have my word that I have no grievance with any of the Garou." The Justicar's face becomes serious as she continues speaking. "While I can't say I understand precisely what it is you'll be doing tonight, I have gathered that it's important to you. Be assured that I have a great deal at stake myself. The eldest of my offspring has come back from the dead, yet been rent in two in the process. One half is held hostage by our enemies. I need to make her whole again, and there is precious little time in which to do it. I have already invested a great deal towards achieving that end."

As soon as the Justicar finishes speaking, she drops her Mask to reveal the gaping socket of her right eye.

"Will you accept the Justicar's pledge?" Rebekka asks of the Garou, who all turn to Niobe.

"I will," she replies, subdued, and the other Garou then silently signal their assent. Gwynnis resumes her Mask after Niobe gives her answer.

"Thank you," Rebekka says. "As for the rank-and-file Kindred of the city, I will provide the strongest protection I can. Let it be heard that any Kindred of New Orleans who harms one of our Garou allies will be held to be in violation of the Sixth Tradition, and subject to summary discipline. Since I will not be able to enforce this decree personally, and since François has already taken it upon himself to guarantee your safety, I believe he is the ideal candidate to be deputized under the Sheriff, to enforce any violations incurred." The Prince then turns to François.

"Will you agree to this proposed deputization, François, understanding that your remit covers specifically those issues that directly involve Kindred interactions with our Garou allies?"

[Brother Brian]

Francois nods. "Gladly you majesty, do I take on this duty, and upon my honor, and the honor of the Camarilla, any slights upon this day's allies will be satisfied as is our way."

[Detritus]

Francois nods. "Gladly you majesty, do I take on this duty, and upon my honor, and the honor of the Camarilla, any slights upon this day's allies will be satisfied as is our way."
"Thank you. Please be sure to coordinate with the Sheriff, so that she will know of this arrangement."

"Would it be better to integrate our forces during the ritual, or leave them segregated into Garou and Kindred patrols?" asks Wynn.

"I'd favor an integrated command," Diana replies. "There would be less chance of friendly fire."

"Assuming that the bickering within each patrol could be kept to a minimum, I would agree," Daniel adds, favoring Niobe with a slightly dubious look.

"That will be fine," Niobe replies, a touch stiffly.

[Brother Brian]

"Might I recommend then, a Kindred and Garou 'captain' for each group?" Francois asks. "It seems that asking a patrol to answer to a leader whom until recently was quite likely considered enemy, might be pushing things a bit." Francois turns to Niobe. "Noble Fianna, would you do me the honor of serving in a patrol with me?"

[Detritus]

Niobe looks around the balcony, but little is revealed on the faces of the others there.

"I will," she finally says.

[Brother Brian]

Niobe looks around the balcony, but little is revealed on the faces of the others there.

"I will," she finally says.

Francois grins. "Excellent", he says general, and then quietly to Niobe he says, "I understand your reticence, but hope my wit and my abilities will prove to you the sincerity of our alliance."

[Detritus]

"We'll see what happens on the streets," Niobe replies just as quietly. She glances at Gwynnis, then Leo, after her reply.

"We can split everyone up as needed once we're at the ritual site," says Daniel.

"That brings up the location of the caern," Diana says.

"We thought perhaps the northern end of the city park might be a suitable locale," Rebekka replies. Diana looks to Caroline for her input.

"It'd do in a pinch, I guess, but there are issues that would arise. You must understand," Caroline says, turning from Diana to the assembled Kindred, "as a holy site, a caern will attract Garou visitors. Pilgrims, you might say. Worship at caerns is often done in our hybrid forms. Humans do not remember the sight of Garou in their Crinos forms, but any place that has such frequent traffic will acquire a sinister reputation."

"You're suggesting that we use a site that already has such a reputation, then," Rebekka says, to which Caroline nods in agreement. "Can you think of any such place, Roman?"

"The St. Louis Cemeteries would be my first choice, if you want some place with a rep of already being 'haunted,' especially St. Louis #1." Caroline's expression and body language is lukewarm at best at this suggestion.

"You seem to have another site in mind," Diana says to Caroline.

"St. Louis #1 would probably work, but I would suggest the Chalmette National Park and Cemetery. It's in the Lower 9th Ward, which has suffered more than its fair share of decay since the hurricane. The area is sparsely populated, and it's also known for being relatively lawless and violent. Plus, there are both Union and Confederate soldiers buried in the cemetery. Given the reason for raising the caern, it seems appropriate."

"You've put quite a bit of thought into this in such a short time, Caroline," says Paavo.

"Perhaps not so short a time," Diana says. "I'm beginning to suspect this is not the first time she's thought of it."

"It isn't, to be perfectly honest. But there are always obstacles to raising new caerns, especially within the city limits of a major metropolis."

"If we're to bring our full strength to bear against our enemies, doing so in a relatively secluded location would be best," Wynn says to Rebekka.

"The isolation is nice," Paavo says, "but for my part, the Civil War burial site is an important reinforcement for our purposes."

"Agreed," says Diana. "Does Caroline's proposal meet with your approval?"

"Yes," replies Rebekka after only a moment's thought. "We will see it done there. François, will you be sure to relay the ritual site to all the relevant parties?"

[Brother Brian]

"Indeed, my Prince" Francois says, turning and whipping out his Blackberry. Those close to him hear him say in low tones "Uma, the site has been chosen. Please ensure that all members of the security detail meet at Chalmette National Park and Cemetery. This has been so ordered by Rebekka, Prince of New Orleans."

[Detritus]

Diana signals Niobe, who steps aside to inform the Garou waiting in the parking lot of the NOLA Art Museum of the ritual site.

"We'll start preparing the site as soon as possible," Diana says. "There is still the matter of visitation rights. As Caroline has already mentioned, the new caern will attract worshippers. As you undoubtedly already appreciate, such attendance could give rise to volatile circumstances."

"It wouldn't be much trouble to treat all such worshippers as being under protection of the rules of Elysium," Rebekka replies. "So long as it is understood that they should proceed directly to and from the caern while they are in the city."

"Human cities are disorienting and alienating to our kind," Diana says.

"Most of our kind," Caroline interjects. Diana makes a gesture of acknowledgment.

"Most of our kind. They will not dawdle while within city limits. However, our worship rites are unusual. I do not know if they would violate your laws or customs, yet altering them is non-negotiable. On behalf of our kind, I would respectfully request that Garou law and custom hold sway on the caern's site itself."

"What exactly would that entail?" the Prince asks.

"For your purposes, the important matter deals with unwelcome visitors. Trespassers are dealt with summarily, and quite harshly."

"Trespassers do not concern me that much. It would not be a problem to declare setting foot on the caern's site a Domain violation, with a variety of possible punishments, up to and including destruction of the offender.

"It cannot be the case, however, that your worship jeopardizes the Masquerade. We maintain strict secrecy amongst the mortals, and if your worship rites would compromise this, I am afraid that no land anywhere within city limits could be ceded to you. This point is non-negotiable in its own right." Diana frowns but does not reply.

"The Veil protects us from incidental discovery," Paavo says.

"It's likewise possible to be discreet in our worship," Daniel adds. "I don't think it'd be much trouble to maintain secrecy."

"If we do manage to raise a caern within the city, I'd be happy to act as liaison," Caroline puts in. "I, at least, am undaunted by the big city." Diana keeps her lips pursed while her companions speak, then acquiesces.

"Very well, if the other sept leaders are on board, then it is agreed, if you concede that the caern and its immediate surroundings of the park and cemetery are formally under the laws and customs of the Garou."

"I'd recommend warding the whole area so that only Garou can pass, and be done with it," Gwynnis says to Rebekka.

[Brother Brian]

Francois raises an eyebrow at the Justicar's suggestion, and appears about to speak, but rethinks it and says nothing.

[Detritus]

"That might not be the most practical suggestion," Rebekka says. "We'll just have to be mindful of each others' prerogatives."

((The negotiations are pretty much finished from where I'm sitting. If there's anything you want/need to add, fire away.))

[Brother Brian]

Francois' glance flicks to the Justicar momentarily before he speaks. "At the risk of elevating myself undeservedly, might I request that I be named liason with the Garou? As primogen of clan Brujah, and deputy to the Sheriff for Garou matters, I believe I have a level of authority to act as such within our society. Further, though brief, I believe that I have displayed my honor to the Garou lords, which is something that others of our kind may not have. On a practical level, I believe it to be our best option."

[Detritus]

A lopsided smirk (much like the one in her portrait) appears on the Justicar's face.

"I don't recall ever treating dishonorably with the Garou." She looks at Niobe. "No, that's not what your grievance is about, is it?" The two women hold each other's gazes for a brief time before Niobe averts her eyes.

"Justicar," Rebekka begins, but Gwynnis cuts her off.

"Forgive me, my Prince, but I feel I must repeat myself, wearying though it may be to convey such simple concepts to all those present." The Justicar's eyes fasten on François for a long moment, her smirk nowhere to be seen, before she continues.

"I have no grievance with any Garou, save those named as our common enemy, and will not harm any Garou except for those named as enemies, and those Garou allied with us will receive the full protection that the Camarilla has to offer. I give you my word on this. If you wish it, I will swear in blood upon a holy relic."

The Justicar reaches out with her right arm, and her sword appears in her empty hand as it closes. She closes her left hand on the blade and slides it a few inches, leaving a red smear behind. She then opens her hand and heals the wound. She grounds the point of the sword and continues speaking.

"My eldest childe, in addition to being a leader of some renown within our sect, may well be deep in the counsels of our enemy, and thus there is likely a significant strategic advantage to making her whole again, my personal feelings on the matter aside. That it happens to align with some of our new allies goals makes it an even more worthwhile end to pursue. I will bend my efforts to the utmost to see her recovered. I give you my word on this as well.

"One final thing do I guarantee -- woe betide they who undermine this rescue mission. Anyone who does so will be subject to... an expression of my displeasure. Anyone." She meets the gaze of everyone in the balcony, then closes her eyes. Her sword abruptly disappears, and a vision comes upon everyone there.

You find yourselves standing by the ruins of the tower atop Glastonbury Tor. In the distance, you see a golden-haired figure squaring off against a Garou who is nearly 30 feet tall that nonetheless move with superhuman quickness. The golden-haired figure narrowly dodges several blows, then hurls two-handed a tongue of brilliant orange flame towards the Garou. Then a sword hilt sticks out from the giant Garou's abdomen, which glows a dull orange as the Garou begins to topple over. The vision disappears just as quickly as it began, and you find yourselves once again on the balcony of the Storyville Jazz Hall.

[Brother Brian]

Could you use my rolls to determine if I make a self control check?

[Detritus]

Could you use my rolls to determine if I make a self control check?
Yeah, I can make that roll, but before that... As things now stand, you'll be at -4 to the roll, but this penalty can be mitigated to -2 by expending 1 blood point, or eliminated by expending 2 BP.

[Brother Brian]

Yeah, I can make that roll, but before that... As things now stand, you'll be at -4 to the roll, but this penalty can be mitigated to -2 by expending 1 blood point, or eliminated by expending 2 BP.

Decisions, decisions. I'll spend 1 blood point. Francois kind of wants to hold it together...but he also doesn't...

[Detritus]

Decisions, decisions. I'll spend 1 blood point. Francois kind of wants to hold it together...but he also doesn't...
OK, the Self-Control roll ended up being a 10, thus successful. However, if it helps, François has no trouble telling that the Justicar definitely has the look of someone who isn't quite finished with the matter herself. There will almost certainly be words in private, later. ;)

Go ahead and post whatever reaction you feel is appropriate, and we'll go on from there.

[Brother Brian]

OK, the Self-Control roll ended up being a 10, thus successful. However, if it helps, François has no trouble telling that the Justicar definitely has the look of someone who isn't quite finished with the matter herself. There will almost certainly be words in private, later. ;)

Go ahead and post whatever reaction you feel is appropriate, and we'll go on from there.

Rage wells behind Francois' eyes. He takes a half step forward, and begins clenching and unclenching his fists, squeezing his jaw so tightly the the scrape of tooth upon tooth is audible. He appears about ready to speak to the justicar when he visably manages to regain control of himself. Turning to Rebekka, he speaks.

"Your grace, I believe we need to speak immediately, in regards to the duties you have so recently given me. I am afraid a most unfortunate violation of not only our accords with our new allies, but also of the laws of our very people has been undertaken, and must be redressed with all haste; lest we prove ourselves to be false to our word and law."

[Detritus]

Rage wells behind Francois' eyes. He takes a half step forward, and begins clenching and unclenching his fists, squeezing his jaw so tightly the the scrape of tooth upon tooth is audible. He appears about ready to speak to the justicar when he visably manages to regain control of himself. Turning to Rebekka, he speaks.

"Your grace, I believe we need to speak immediately, in regards to the duties you have so recently given me. I am afraid a most unfortunate violation of not only our accords with our new allies, but also of the laws of our very people has been undertaken, and must be redressed with all haste; lest we prove ourselves to be false to our word and law."
"Oh?" the Prince asks. "Can you be more specific?"

[Brother Brian]

"Oh?" the Prince asks. "Can you be more specific?"

"Indeed. One of our kind just used her powers in this place of peace; upon all of us, without consent asked for or given. The purpose of this could easily be construed as a threat to our new allies, whom we have just recently made accord with.

The laws of elysium were broken. One of our kind threatened the allies you have tasked me to protect. My prince, a failure to act on this would be most unbecoming."

[Detritus]

Gwynnis touches Rebekka on the forearm, and the Prince yields the floor to the Justicar.

"A threat?" the Justicar asks innocently. "I wouldn't say so, not unless a stern warning about the consequences of treachery is a threat. The image in question was... shared information, for those who might have been laboring under an imperfectly informed view of certain... momentous episodes in history."

The Justicar then favors the Garou with a winning smile. Niobe doesn't really seem to be buying it, but it's apparent that it affects the male Garou favorably. Diana and Caroline remain neutral, a touch of wariness in their gazes, when Gwynnis resumes speaking.

"However, if any of you felt threatened by my little display, then it is certainly incumbent upon me to make amends. To that end, I propose taking the field to help in the defense of those of you who will be raising the caern. I had not planned on it, but I believe I may be of use, given my experience on those rare occasions where I have had to loose my blade into the belly of a... monstrous Black Spiral Dancer." Gwynnis briefly gives Niobe a sly look before continuing. "You may consider me at your disposal, to be placed wherever one such blade might have the greatest impact. Would such an arrangement be agreeable?"

The Garou huddle together and confer. After a brief discussion, in which the three Garou you met last night were the most active, the conference breaks up, and Diana gives the Justicar an answer.

"We'll agree, provided you can keep a civil tongue." The Justicar smiles, then makes a tiny but respectful bow.

"But of course. It is customary that debtors and creditors maintain civil relations at all times. It would be... most unbecoming to violate this custom." Diana arches an eyebrow, but Gwynnis maintains a bland expression, and the Garou leader silently acquiesces to Justicar's proposal.

"And you, deputy? Does this arrangement meet with your approval?" The Justicar keeps her face smooth, but for an instant her eyes seem to glitter. Perhaps a trick of the light?

((Regardless of François's actual feelings on the matter, he has enough political savvy to realize that a negative answer could put him sailing in dangerous waters: "Ah, then you must wish for a trial by combat..." and so on.))

[Brother Brian]

Gwynnis touches Rebekka on the forearm, and the Prince yields the floor to the Justicar.

"A threat?" the Justicar asks innocently. "I wouldn't say so, not unless a stern warning about the consequences of treachery is a threat. The image in question was... shared information, for those who might have been laboring under an imperfectly informed view of certain... momentous episodes in history."

The Justicar then favors the Garou with a winning smile. Niobe doesn't really seem to be buying it, but it's apparent that it affects the male Garou favorably. Diana and Caroline remain neutral, a touch of wariness in their gazes, when Gwynnis resumes speaking.

"However, if any of you felt threatened by my little display, then it is certainly incumbent upon me to make amends. To that end, I propose taking the field to help in the defense of those of you who will be raising the caern. I had not planned on it, but I believe I may be of use, given my experience on those rare occasions where I have had to loose my blade into the belly of a... monstrous Black Spiral Dancer." Gwynnis briefly gives Niobe a sly look before continuing. "You may consider me at your disposal, to be placed wherever one such blade might have the greatest impact. Would such an arrangement be agreeable?"

The Garou huddle together and confer. After a brief discussion, in which the three Garou you met last night were the most active, the conference breaks up, and Diana gives the Justicar an answer.

"We'll agree, provided you can keep a civil tongue." The Justicar smiles, then makes a tiny but respectful bow.

"But of course. It is customary that debtors and creditors maintain civil relations at all times. It would be... most unbecoming to violate this custom." Diana arches an eyebrow, but Gwynnis maintains a bland expression, and the Garou leader silently acquiesces to Justicar's proposal.

"And you, deputy? Does this arrangement meet with your approval?" The Justicar keeps her face smooth, but for an instant her eyes seem to glitter. Perhaps a trick of the light?

((Regardless of François's actual feelings on the matter, he has enough political savvy to realize that a negative answer could put him sailing in dangerous waters: "Ah, then you must wish for a trial by combat..." and so on.))

Oh, I'm fully aware of the lack of rationality in my response. You should have seen what would have happened had I missed the roll.

Francois' glare would back down most.

"So far as it goes, if the Garou have chosen to overlook your indiscretion, I am certainly willing to follow their lead. Thus, my duty to respond is removed." He moves his concentration to the prince.

"Having said that however, a response to a violation of the laws of Elysium is neither mine, nor the Garou lords to dismiss. It is most certainly the Prince's discretion alone to decide if your unauthorized use of our gifts in this place can be so easily forgiven. For it is her place, and not mine, to uphold the customs and traditions of our kind. I envy not her decision, is it better to say that our most esteemed leaders may so rudely violate her domain, and in doing so risk giving the appearance of being a Justicar's cats paw? Or is it preferable to make an enemy of the Justicar of another clan? Either is fraught with risk, especially for one who so recently gained her position."

[Detritus]

The Justicar holds your gaze for a moment before rolling her eyes. "This must be your first time in Elysium, if you think that is going to work," she says, contempt dripping from her words.

"Thank you, Justicar, I will handle the matter from here," Rebekka says as she interposes herself between you and Gwynnis. The Justicar subsides, and the Prince turns a gaze of blue ice upon you.

"Please, Deputy," the Prince says, very pointedly following the Justicar's example in using the lesser of François's titles, "show us that legendary Brujah temper. I want you to." Something changes in the Prince's eyes, as if she almost relishes the possibility of quelling an outburst.

((François can spend another BP to hold it together for the remainder of the scene. It would be kind of bad form to lose it right now, especially after trying to use the Justicar's indiscretion to play Gwynnis and Rebekka off each other. I'm just sayin'...))

[Brother Brian]

Francois spends the BP.

Rage wells behind Francois eyes as he glares at the Justicar. Without looking at the Prince, he responds, in a quiet voice, "Indeed you would. And perhaps it must be so."

His tenor changes, he is addressing the room. "As has been heard, the Prince wishes for me to do violence upon the Justicar for her transgression. While trial by combat is antiquated, it is a fitting response for the wise Prince of the city. That said, it would be unseemly for us to air such internal business in front of our honored guests."

Removing a riding glove from his belt, he throws it on the floor in front of the Justicar. "My Lady Justicar, my accusation lays at your feet. Pick it up and meet me in the room adjacent, or leave it, and have the truth of my accusation sung by harpies from Paris to New Orleans, From Carpathia to California."

Francois turns to the Garou, "I will be back shortly my lords and ladies. I believe that the promises made this night will keep you safe in this place."

With that, he turns on his heel, going out the door.

[Detritus]

The Justicar drops her Mask again, revealing the hollowed eye socket.

"As you wish," she says, then gives the Prince a quizzical look. "Will you adjudicate?" Gwynnis asks of Wynn. The Gangrel elder looks at both combatants, then nods.

((OK, this is totally NOT where I was intending to go with this. The Prince was daring François to lose his temper so that she could smack him down some. However, we can play out a combat challenge, but I'd prefer it not to go to the Final Death based on a GM-player misunderstanding, so I'm bringing another NPC to the scene as an adjudicator. The exact terms of the trial-by-combat can be a matter of negotiation.))

[Brother Brian]

Francois has no intention of fighting the Justicar. He's a brash, overconfident Brujah, but he's not a steaming idiot. There is indeed a method to my apparent madness, as you shall see. ;)

Francois appears to pay no notice to the Justicar's words.

Upon exiting the main hall, Francois choses a room at random off the hallway. Finding himself in an office of sorts, he see's a wooden chair. With a quick kick, he splinter's the leg off one, leaving a sharp point where it once connected with the seat itself. Pulling out his rapier, he sits on the desk for the moment or two before Gwynnis and Wynn enter.

Smiling, he says to Wynn, "Please close the door." As Wynn does so he says, "Here's how I see it. There is no way anybody in that room believes I will best you in formal combat. So to pretend to do so would fail completely. I do think however that it might improve my position with the Garou if you show sign of one or two minor visable wounds, which you may of course heal in front of them."

Francois pauses for a moment. "Damned your eyeless sockets, I can't tell if you're following me or not. Look, it is quite clear that there is history between you and the garou. I don't know what it is, and further I don't care to know. I do know however, that after your display, the relationship between you and they went from untrusting to hostile. Which means that so long as I am "on your team", my relationship with them will be contaminated by that hostility. This would certainly be a detriment to our mission.

Since your display was so grandiose, mine had to be equally so. When you, or more likely Wynn, drags my staked body back into the main Hall, it will earn trust with the Garou. Without that trust, we could not be sure that they would continue to work as allies when they got what they want. This will compell them.

So, now we spar for a bit with blade or fang. You damage me significantly, I damage you enough to show my martial prowress. Then, when enough time has passed, you drive this through my heart." Francois smiles a devilishly charming smile. "I would take it as a kindness if one of you would persuade the Prince that as I was doing my duty, my final death is not required."

He tosses the stake he made to the Justicar. "Oh, and I do apologize if I gave offense, but I needed to play the role most vigorously if it was to succeed."

[Detritus]

OK, nice. You definitely get a +1 for that. I'll post a reply tonight.

[Detritus]

The Justicar watches you impassively with her one good eye, only moving to catch the stake you toss to her.

"It is irregular," Wynn finally says, "but his proposal has merit." Gwynnis turns her one-eyed gaze to the elder Gangrel, who waits with seemingly perfect equanimity.

"I suppose it does at that," the Justicar finally says. She turns to you and says, "I've met my match in courtesy, it seems. I'm not really the one you need to apologize to, however. I do not think the Prince appreciated the tail end of your act. I will prevail upon her to grant clemency in the matter, but she'll need to hear from you directly at some point."

*placeholder for PC response*

The Justicar hands her stake to Wynn, then removes her jacket, revealing her short-sleeved shirt.

"If we've already decided on the outcome, I see no reason not to have the adjudicator administer the wounds. One stake wound to an arm, another to the opposite shoulder, I think. My jacket will cover the tear in the fabric." She pauses to think for a moment, then says to you, "I would suggest baring yourself to the waist. You'll only need to bear the one wound. It will look like I was toying with you. It is a style I'm known for."

"I'll agree to this," Wynn replies, "if you'll agree to enlighten the young woman you've been tormenting this evening as to the whole of your history with the Fianna. It's evident to me, at least, that your quarrel is with that tribe in particular. I think the Primogen deserves to hear it as well, even he professes not to care either way." The Justicar gives Wynn a long look, but his only reaction is a minute squinting of his eyelids.

"So be it." The elders then look to you.

[Brother Brian]

The Justicar watches you impassively with her one good eye, only moving to catch the stake you toss to her.

"It is irregular," Wynn finally says, "but his proposal has merit." Gwynnis turns her one-eyed gaze to the elder Gangrel, who waits with seemingly perfect equanimity.

"I suppose it does at that," the Justicar finally says. She turns to you and says, "I've met my match in courtesy, it seems. I'm not really the one you need to apologize to, however. I do not think the Prince appreciated the tail end of your act. I will prevail upon her to grant clemency in the matter, but she'll need to hear from you directly at some point."

Franois considers this for a moment. "Alas, you are likely correct. You will note however that what I said was, to the letter of the law, correct. While publically throwing it in her face as such was a necessary rudeness, she has no actual cause to move against me. That said, I would hate for her to carry a grudge against me. I will speak to her as soon as the opportunity presents itself."

The Justicar hands her stake to Wynn, then removes her jacket, revealing her short-sleeved shirt.

"If we've already decided on the outcome, I see no reason not to have the adjudicator administer the wounds. One stake wound to an arm, another to the opposite shoulder, I think. My jacket will cover the tear in the fabric." She pauses to think for a moment, then says to you, "I would suggest baring yourself to the waist. You'll only need to bear the one wound. It will look like I was toying with you. It is a style I'm known for."

"I'll agree to this," Wynn replies, "if you'll agree to enlighten the young woman you've been tormenting this evening as to the whole of your history with the Fianna. It's evident to me, at least, that your quarrel is with that tribe in particular. I think the Primogen deserves to hear it as well, even he professes not to care either way." The Justicar gives Wynn a long look, but his only reaction is a minute squinting of his eyelids.

"So be it." The elders then look to you.

Francois shrugs, and removes his leather jacket and linen shirt. "Strike true Wynn, I don't imagine that I'd enjoy multiple attempts.

[Detritus]

"I won't miss, you may rest assured," Wynn says to you. He then walks over to the Justicar, and punctures her left shoulder, perhaps a bit more deeply than necessity dictates.

"Maybe just a grazing wound on the arm then," Gwynnis says with a raised eyebrow. Wynn smiles for a moment before complying with the Justicar's request in making the second wound, then hands her the stake.

"Just relax as best you can," Wynn says to you after he rests the point of the unused stake on your chest. You still yourself, then suddenly your mind plunges into oblivion just after you feel the stake pierce your chest.

((I'm still deciding how much detail to go into for the remainder of the thread, so I'm putting in a break here for the moment...))

[Detritus]

"The combatants have settled their dispute, Majesty," Wynn says after returning to the meeting. "If you will follow me." Wynn exits again, and Rebekka follows him. Neither of their faces betray any emotion.

A few moments later, the Justicar returns to the meeting, her gaping eye socket visible, with her jacket draped over one arm and a stake in the other hand. She bears a puncture wound in her left shoulder, and a grazing wound on her right arm. Rebekka follows her, and François, stripped to the waist, stake sticking out of his chest, floats beside her at waist height. Wynn carries François's shirt and jacket into the booth. The Prince moves François near one of the chairs in the booth. Wynn folds him into a seated position as Rebekka lowers him, then lays his clothing on François's lap.

"Though it was not my intent," the Justicar says, "we might think of this episode as a test. I've determined to my satisfaction that Monsieur Petit will advocate your interest without fear or favor," she says to the Garou. "You'll want to speak with him, my Prince, as I believe he wanted to clarify a few things with you."

"As you say, Justicar," Rebekka replies.

"It's also been suggested that I inform you of exactly what sort of creature you've allied yourselves with. The full tale is a long one, and bloody, yet it may provide illuminating." Before beginning with her story, the Justicar walks over to François and removes the stake from his chest, then returns to where she was standing and dons her jacket after setting the stakes at her feet.

[Brother Brian]

Upon removal of the stake, Francois jerks up to his feet, his hand covering the hole in his chest, as it starts to heal. (Spending Blood as needed, but doing it slowly.)

He nods his head, in honorable defeat towards the Justicar, and reaches down to pick up his clothing. He puts his shirt on, but leaves it unbuttoned; it is a grotesque mockery of the romance novel cover, blood on skin and a hole in the chest.

[Detritus]

"The whole story," Gwynnis says. A shadow of pain crosses the Justicar's face for a fleeting instant, before she lets out a sigh.

"Where to start? Perhaps with a question. I'm given to understand that the Garou have a strong oral tradition of keeping their histories. What, I wonder, do such tales make of the White Spirit?" The Justicar's good eye drifts along the line of Garou before fastening upon Niobe.

"The histories state that you have slain sixty-eight of my Fianna ancestors," Niobe says, and her voice resounds with challenge and defiance during her reply. More than one of her companions raise an eyebrow at her answer.

"Sixty-eight Fianna," Gwynnis replies softly, then she closes her eyes in recollection. "I suppose that is about right. And what of the Silken Princess?"

"Her tale runs to thirty-nine."

"Over a hundred Fianna between us," the Justicar muses, a touch of sadness in her voice. "And do the histories state why these slayings started?"

"They are less than clear on that particular matter."

"Are they? I suppose that makes sense as well. However strong the oral tradition is, the true memory of events is bound to degrade, especially when they stretch back for nearly nine centuries, with antecedents a millennium ago and more. But I, I have the vantage of the long memory. I've lived through all these events. You may judge me after you have heard what's relevant to us here tonight."

"Time is at a premium," Diana says. "As fond as the Garou are of family history, we do have pressing matters to attend to before sunrise."

"I understand, yet I must prevail upon you to suffer the ramblings of an old woman for a short time. I must insist upon supplying the necessary context." Diana subsides without a word at the Justicar's level gaze.

[Detritus]

((EDIT -- François and Leo will know that sidan is Welsh for silk, incidentally.))

"Sidana Quinnell, the Silken Princess, became Kindred at the very end of the year 1124, as the adherents of the White Christ reckon it. I had chanced upon her a few years earlier and was smitten, and for a time watched her from afar. By the end of my surveillance, she was in grave danger of being slain at the altar by her brother's hand, as she was to marry her family's greatest enemy after he had kidnapped her. I insinuated myself into the king's household, gave her the Embrace, and spirited her away to Glastonbury. Another mortal died in her place.

"We dwelt together in St. Michael's cathedral and abbey for the first decade of Sidana's new existence. She had always been such a gentle creature before her change, and I felt it best to keep her in the simple, spiritual life such as is found at an abbey. For the most part it worked, after the initial shock following the Embrace. In her breathing days, Sidana had professed the White Christ to be her savior, and she took comfort in the life the abbey provided.

"Yet in time, Sidana grew curious about the wider world. We left Glastonbury together, and made our way to Londinium. There we stayed for a third of a century, or thereabouts, but Sidana managed to fit in the occasional visit to St. Michael's as the years passed. I taught her what she needed to know to minimize suspicion among the brothers."

The Justicar pauses, and her Mask wavers and then alters. She appears as Sidana would just entering the prime of adulthood, then in her middle years, then as someone approaching a grandmotherly age. She looks down at her feet for a moment while wearing this elderly guise before restoring her usual appearance, the golden hair, the smooth, flawless face, both blue eyes shining in the low light of the booth.

"It was in Londinium where Sidana first met Meerlinda, who now sits on the ruling council of Clan Tremere. Sidana's early years in Londinium were perhaps the happiest years I ever had. For Sidana was the child I was never able to have, barren as I was in my mortal days. And Meerlinda was the surrogate for the sister estranged from me, borne of the flesh of my greatest rival in life, and offered as boon companion in recompense for her part in sundering the bond that should have developed between my sister and me.

"It could not last, of course. Wherever three Kindred gather together, some form of strife is bound to occur, and even two is a dangerous number. In this case, it was jealousy. Sidana eventually came to see Meerlinda as a rival for my affection. That Meerlinda did not see things thus seemed only to make matters worse, and my own explanations did not help either."

[Detritus]

The Justicar pauses again, and lets out another sigh. She looks out across the hall for a moment before turning her attention back inside the balcony.

"It was not for a lack of trying. In hindsight, it was not the best approach, but I felt the need to explain certain events. For I was in Venice, not far from Goratrix's chantry in the Tyrolean Alps, when Clan Tremere was born. I it was who guided Meerlinda, already my friend for nearly two centuries, through the Change, and also who escorted her to Londinium, when the Normans landed at Hastings. I fear that Sidana only saw confirmation of her own take on the matter upon learning of these things, though.

"There came a night when Sidana issued me an ultimatum. Or at least as close to an ultimatum as she dared; I still held a certain amount of sway over her. But amid the gentle phrasings and the deference that the childe shows her sire, a demand was unmistakably present. Sidana was leaving the city, and bade me choose between Meerlinda and her. My silken princess had learned that even Kindred are susceptible to manipulation through the bonds of affection. I could not refuse her, so we left for France. For Paris.

"Ah, Paris. The city holds a special place in the hearts of Toreador everywhere. Yet it was not always so. The final third of the 12th century was an exciting time to be there, for it was in this time when the city begin to take on the character it has tonight. And Sidana and I both had a hand in the city's development, as did a number of our clan mates.

"The fracture in our relationship began to heal during that first decade in the city. Sidana had continued to look in on St. Michael's abbey in Glastonbury. Visits in person were impractical, but she frequently walked the abbey's grounds in astral form. She was even able to make herself perceptible to the most psychically attuned members of the abbey, and spoke with them in the guise of an angel.

"Then one night, Sidana did not waken. She had fallen into the deep sleep our kind enters after suffering extreme physical or emotional injury. She bore no injury, but I knew that she had taken one of her astral sojourns to St. Michael's. Fearing what I would find there, I laid down and made the trip to the abbey myself."

[Detritus]

((There's probably one more post of approximately the length of this one, maybe a bit longer, before the Justicar finishes her story, then the game can resume.))

The Justicar closes her eyes, and the shadow of pain returns to her face, lingering where it did not the first time it appeared. Her eyes are momentarily ablaze after she opens them. There's an undercurrent of tightly leashed anger in the even pace of her words, and it's evident that she's exerting a great deal of self-control to keep from looking at the Garou.

"Even fearing for the worst had not prepared me for what I was to find. The cathedral and monastery had been razed, burned to the ground. Everyone in the village, whether monk or villager, had been brutally slaughtered. The attackers were quite thorough in this regard." A momentary crack in the Justicar's self-control develops, and she directs a gaze like a sword thrust at Niobe.

"The attackers were Garou," Gwynnis continues, averting her eyes once again. "Their psychic fingerprints were everywhere, obvious even though I was in astral form. Perhaps stronger because I was in astral form. There were sixteen of them, all told. I don't think they even tried to conceal their presence, afterwords," the Justicar says ruefully. "They either didn't know about us, or didn't consider us to pose any sort of threat to them." Gwynnis shakes her head, and glances along the line of Garou. Paavo then speaks into the lengthening silence.

"There are... differing theories amongst the Garou concerning how to deal with both mortals and the Kindred."

"I don't doubt that," the Justicar replies, "and I don't wish to accuse anyone here in connection with events that happened so long before you were born. The mere fact that I can regale you with tales from ancient history confirms the existence of the differences you've spoken of. Yet there was a band of Fianna warriors who held a rather austere view on the nature of relations between themselves and the humans living in Glastonbury and the surrounding countryside over eight centuries ago." Niobe stirs but does not speak, a mixture of emotions on her face, and Gwynnis tries so hard not to look at her she may as well be staring.

"That region has a strong connection with the realm of Arcadia," Diana says, a troubled look on her face. "No doubt that motivated them at least in part, although..." and here she trails off. Gwynnis spares her a quick glance before continuing.

"Caught unawares, Sidana had frozen with anguish upon learning of the massacre. I at least had the foreboding of Sidana's descent into torpor, and when I came upon the scene, my blood grew hot. It took a considerable effort to bank that anger into a slow burn. When I finally managed it, I collected sword, spear, and dagger, and I went on the hunt."

[Detritus]

"I first made my way to Londinium, before beginning the hunt in earnest, to prevail upon Meerlinda to join me. She refused, and it came to bitter words, but she remained steadfast in her refusal, no matter how I pleaded, cajoled, or reminded her of her own ancestral ties to Glastonbury. She even tried to dissuade me from 'rash action,' as she called it, but when she came to realize that I would not be swayed, and knowing how dangerous my mission was, she did finally present me with two gifts: the ability to waken at the instant of sunset, and the ability to become a psychic cipher while I slept. I accepted these gifts with such grace as I could muster at the time, and went into the wild.

"Thus fortified, and armed with the weapons of the Pendragon's heir, the hunt was surprisingly easy. I slept in the earth, and with each new sunset I thanked Meerlinda in my heart for the gifts she bestowed upon me, and repented my part in the harsh exchanges between us. The predators were unaccustomed to being prey, especially prey to a Kindred hunter who did not exhibit the daytime vulnerabilities typical of our ilk. I became The White Spirit in truth, vanishing by day and avenging the slain mortals of Glastonbury by night.

"One by one, the band of Fianna responsible for the slaughter began to fall. The first were openly contemptuous of me, and their underestimation of my prowess proved fatal for them. Those I encountered later were warier, but I had grown stronger in the interim." Gwynnis closes her eyes, and her next words are barely audible.

"Garou vitae is a most potent elixir," she says, and suddenly her aura appears to you, pale yet like a thing alive. Desire, pain, anger, remorse -- these emotions are all evident upon the Justicar's face, and echoed in her aura. It flickers rapidly during the momentary silence, then it vanishes just as suddenly as it had appeared. Gwynnis opens her eyes again, and turns her attention to Niobe when she speaks.

"You drank the blood of the Fianna?!"

"Yes, I did," Gwynnis replies, sounding a bit annoyed. "It was war, and a very personal one at that. I roamed the countryside far and wide in astral form as I made my way from London, and found no evidence of any other attacks. Honor demanded no less, that I must claim their power for my own, for the attack was aimed squarely at we who dwelt in Glastonbury." The Justicar clenches her jaw, and pauses to compose herself once again.

"You have only my word, but I swear to you, neither before or since this hunt have I partaken of werewolf blood. Indeed, I had slaked my thirst for blood, for vengeance, while one member of the band of sixteen Fianna still lived. I left for France having never encountered her face-to-face, and undoubtedly it was she who passed along the tale of this first hunt of mine.

"It was nearly a year to the day since Sidana had descended into torpor when I left Wales, and it was her need that drew me back to her side. I sensed that she was about to waken, and she did so within a week of my return to Paris. I considered withholding what I had done, hoping to spare my gentle princess further anguish, but after one look in her eyes, I told her everything.

"Sidana had changed after she awoke. Before the attack, she had never been more than a spearmaiden of indifferent competence, and often treated her training sessions as little more than a game. After emerging from torpor, though, she became assiduous in the honing of her spearcraft. In short order she grew into being a worthy sparring partner for me. We sharpened each other's skills in a mirror image of the way my own sire had used the staff to train me in swordplay.

"Our first major engagement together against the Garou took place during the Black Death. There were some who had evidently decided on a program of aggressively culling the human herd, and we fought with them on both sides of the English Channel. There were more tribes than the Fianna involved that time around, but we ever sought them out first and foremost. There were wars -- the Hundred Years' War, and the Thirty -- and more natural disasters, culminating in another major campaign after the Great Plague and Great Fire in London, and the Fianna were always in the forefront of our consciousness during these times."

The Justicar's eyes turn increasingly inwards after her exchange with Niobe, but she suddenly turns a dagger-sharp look towards the red-haired Garou, forestalling Niobe's reply.

"I am nearly finished. Indeed, the story itself is complete, and it is my hope that you understand, when you pick at old scabs, and finger ancient scars, just how deep the wounds beneath them run. That attack had a profound influence on the Kindred that both Sidana and I became. The Fianna made us both, or have as much claim on that as any other, and the very power of your own blood was turned upon you. One might even be moved to say that there is a certain poetic symmetry there, given the roles that the Toreador and the Fianna play in their respective cultures.

"The astute observer will perceive another such symmetry. It is likely now the case that the power of elder Toreador blood will be turned upon the clan, yet the opportunity exists for the Fianna to help repair that which they tore asunder so many years ago. I had thought my own grievances buried and forgotten, but they were merely held in abeyance, lying dormant through the judicious avoidance of confrontation. When Sidana fell, it was as losing my right arm, and a great deal could be forgiven, were the Fianna party to her restoration."

A silence descends upon the booth, one that Rebekka finally breaks.

"Anneke never told me any of this," the Prince says in a near whisper.

"She never knew, my Prince, at least not beyond a very superficial level. Once the floodgates holding back those memories open, they are impossible to close, and it is not a pleasant remembrance. We may consider it further penance for my earlier indiscretion."

[Brother Brian]

Francois says nothing, but has a skeptical animosity across his features, whether real or feigned is anyone's guess.

[Detritus]

((Goddammit these last couple of posts have ballooned...))

"That's quite a story," Diana finally says. Niobe and Gwynnis have locked gazes, their faces both cool but neither overtly hostile. The Justicar waits for the span of two mortal heartbeats before turning her eyes away from Niobe to answer.

"It is what happened. You most likely don't know this yet, but it is impolitic for our kind to lie to those whom one is indebted to. I lost precise count during the Black Death, but I cannot deny that my history with the Garou is written in blood. If it helps, I've easily slain three Kindred for every Garou I've destroyed."

"You sound violent to the point of being unstable," Daniel says, a dubious note in his voice. Gwynnis smiles.

"My dear fellow, I've held the post of Justicar for three quarters of a century over the course of two different stints. We are the ultimate mikados of our kind, judge, jury and, if need be, executioner, wherever we go. I've already put one of the Kindred of New Orleans to the Final Death just this past week, and that is a larger number than the Garou I've destroyed in the past three centuries. And this is not counting my time as Sheriff, a lesser version of Justicar, with jurisdiction over only one city, in London and Boston.

"Killing is an art," the Justicar says with her lopsided grin, "like anything else. I do it exceptionally well. As I no doubt should, having had so long and so many opportunities to perfect my craft. And tonight, I have pledged to pursue my art in the protection of those raising a Garou holy site on Kindred soil."

"There is that," Paavo says to Diana. Caroline arches an eyebrow and Gwynnis's last statement, but says nothing.

"Do the Fianna histories contain anything of the White Spirit destroying or otherwise molesting other caerns, Niobe?" Niobe gives Diana a long look before giving a tight-lipped shake of her head in negation.

"Nor is there any such mention within the histories of the Stargazers," Paavo says. "Nor of the Silent Striders, or the Glass Walkers, or the Silver Fangs, unless I've badly missed my guess."

"It is a strangely impressive application, in its own way," Caroline says to Diana, "no matter how abhorrent we find it. If she can do it so it feels like hell against the vermin you're bound to attract tonight, it would be pretty helpful." Gwynnis gives Caroline an appreciative nod.

"I think it's a mistake to let that Wyrm-riddled creature anywhere near the caern site," Niobe says. Rebekka and Daniel make near-identical winces, but it's Paavo who replies.

"The seed of the Wyrm lies within each of us, Niobe. It manifests itself in the destructive urges of our Frenzy, as you should already know. Ask yourself how you would fare after having wrestled with it for 1500 years before passing harsh judgment upon the White Spirit. I would not name her one of Gaia's avengers for the deeds she's confessed to, but it's quite clear to me that she has battled against some of our brethren who had slipped more firmly into the Wyrm's grasp than it is comfortable for us to admit."

Another silence falls after this last statement before Diana speaks.

"We're wasting time here in this booth. Sunlight comes closer with each passing minute. We must go to the cemetery. Caroline, New Orleans is your city, at least as far as the Garou are concerned. You'll coordinate the Garou patrol efforts and be our liaison with the Kindred."

Caroline nods in acknowledgment. Gwynnis says something about needing to speak to Anneke about her deployment in the field and breezes out of the balcony. Roman cocks his head and widens his eyes for a moment before shaking his head like he's trying to get a crick out of his neck.

[Brother Brian]

Francois turns to Paavo, and speaks with an urgency in his voice. "Might I ask what is this worm you speak of?" There is a slight mispronunciation of the word Wyrm as he says this. "In all truth, if our Justicar is riddled with some...disease...it would be prudent to know, both for your cause, and my own."

[Detritus]

"Not worm with an 'o'," Paavo says with a little smile, "but Wyrm, with a 'y'." The smile leaves his face when he continues speaking.

"A great deal could be said about the Wyrm, but to encapsulate, in Garou theology, the Wyrm is the embodiment of decay, corruption, and destruction. It is an article of faith among many of my kind that vampires, the Kindred, are among the greatest agents of the Wyrm."

"You have to admit, the White Spirit is a creature with a blood-soaked history," Daniel says, looking towards the balcony exit. "And this is in addition to certain others that the Kindred have seen fit to be present tonight." His eyes drift over to Leo.

"The Nosferatu clan is a member of good standing within the Camarilla," Rebekka says quietly, but in a tone that brooks no disagreement.

"That won't be particularly persuasive in convincing my brethren that you aren't agents of the Wyrm," Daniel retorts.

"I've met a number of the Kindred, whether they knew me for what I am or not," says Caroline. "Many more than any of the other Garou present, I would wager. The taint of the Wyrm is not completely absent, yet I sense nothing worse than can be found in many mortals, or even some of our brothers and sisters. That includes both Leo and the White Spirit."