Tale of the GM: Chapter 1
Kylith, as the other Kindred called him, hated interruptions. There were actually a series of reasons for this. The first was that they were just plain annoying. The second was that his subordinates rarely knew what they should interrupt him about, and what they shouldn't. The third reason was that on the rare occasions when an interruption wasn't annoying, and was important enough that he should be interrupted for it, it meant that things weren't going as he had planned. For the Prince of New York City, supreme ruler of all Camarilla kindred inside the city, and an eleventh generation vampire, this last reason was the most vexing.
And so, when the head of his household security corps walked in his private sanctum, unannounced and unexpected, Kylith muttered a string of choice obscenities (he'd learnt some good ones in the past three thousand years, even if they were a little obsolete and some couldn't be translated properly from the older dialects of Latin). The security director endured the twelve minute long diatribe stoically, before finally speaking.
"Milord, one of the watchmen found a group of bodies inside the front gate. Four of them had been embraced, all very recently. None bore Clan markings, but each had one of these held in their hands." The ghoul produced five wax-sealed envelops from inside his jacket and handed them to Kylith.
Breaking the seal on the first envelope Kylith began to read. The ghoul watched as his lord's eyes grew wide, and slowly began to narrow again. "Bring the Neonates in Claude, and have them put into separate guest rooms. They are not to be wakened, but do not prevent them from waking on their own. Two guards outside each door, but leave the doors unlocked. Tell the guards to come find me when one awakens, but to keep them in the rooms." By now Kylith had scanned the first four letters, and filed them away into a drawer.
Claude turned and relayed the orders to his aide, who was just outside the door. "And the other sir?" He asked, turning back.
Kylith had just finished reading the last letter for the third time. His eyes seemed to be slits. "Put it in the Dawn Suite. Have the door locked and sealed, with the seal keyed to either your presence or mine, alert the room's Guardians, and then post five of your best men as you see fit. Oversee the preparations and report back to me personally when they are completed. Do this quickly, for your own safety, but no restraints." Claude left the room at a sprint, and the door slammed be hind him. Kylith pressed a button on the intercom. "Kindly inform the Tremere Primogen that I require his presence as soon as he is capable of giving it to me. Impress upon how extremely important this is. Then inform the other Primogens that I have called a meeting for tomorrow, three hours after nightfall."
"Of course Mr. Vivotrossi." The disembodied voice said back, but Kylith wasn't paying any attention.
What are you caught up in this time Vlad? What are you planning to use these five for? And more importantly, how can I use them, rather than letting you? Kylith asked himself as he turned back to his contemplations.
Kylith, as the other Kindred called him, hated interruptions. There were actually a series of reasons for this. The first was that they were just plain annoying. The second was that his subordinates rarely knew what they should interrupt him about, and what they shouldn't. The third reason was that on the rare occasions when an interruption wasn't annoying, and was important enough that he should be interrupted for it, it meant that things weren't going as he had planned. For the Prince of New York City, supreme ruler of all Camarilla kindred inside the city, and an eleventh generation vampire, this last reason was the most vexing.
And so, when the head of his household security corps walked in his private sanctum, unannounced and unexpected, Kylith muttered a string of choice obscenities (he'd learnt some good ones in the past three thousand years, even if they were a little obsolete and some couldn't be translated properly from the older dialects of Latin). The security director endured the twelve minute long diatribe stoically, before finally speaking.
"Milord, one of the watchmen found a group of bodies inside the front gate. Four of them had been embraced, all very recently. None bore Clan markings, but each had one of these held in their hands." The ghoul produced five wax-sealed envelops from inside his jacket and handed them to Kylith.
Breaking the seal on the first envelope Kylith began to read. The ghoul watched as his lord's eyes grew wide, and slowly began to narrow again. "Bring the Neonates in Claude, and have them put into separate guest rooms. They are not to be wakened, but do not prevent them from waking on their own. Two guards outside each door, but leave the doors unlocked. Tell the guards to come find me when one awakens, but to keep them in the rooms." By now Kylith had scanned the first four letters, and filed them away into a drawer.
Claude turned and relayed the orders to his aide, who was just outside the door. "And the other sir?" He asked, turning back.
Kylith had just finished reading the last letter for the third time. His eyes seemed to be slits. "Put it in the Dawn Suite. Have the door locked and sealed, with the seal keyed to either your presence or mine, alert the room's Guardians, and then post five of your best men as you see fit. Oversee the preparations and report back to me personally when they are completed. Do this quickly, for your own safety, but no restraints." Claude left the room at a sprint, and the door slammed be hind him. Kylith pressed a button on the intercom. "Kindly inform the Tremere Primogen that I require his presence as soon as he is capable of giving it to me. Impress upon how extremely important this is. Then inform the other Primogens that I have called a meeting for tomorrow, three hours after nightfall."
"Of course Mr. Vivotrossi." The disembodied voice said back, but Kylith wasn't paying any attention.
What are you caught up in this time Vlad? What are you planning to use these five for? And more importantly, how can I use them, rather than letting you? Kylith asked himself as he turned back to his contemplations.