Tale of the GM: Chapter 2
When the first one of Kylith's guests awoke, he wasn't really sure what he was doing in this opulent room. And this didn't really become any clearer to him while awake. The last memory he had was of...no, it was better not to think of it said his mind. Some things were simply better left alone and not considered.
"Where am I?" He asked himself.
The answers to questions like that very rarely please the asker. Now, before you ask any stupid questions my name is Teaches-The-Young, I died a years ago, I'm your ancestor, and I'm going to teach you everything you'll need to survive as a young werewolf who is currently in the house of a vampire, and will probably find himself being used by them for some time.
"Who said that?" Asked the teenage boy.
I already told you that whelp. Now, sit down and let's get started.
Sanity, consciousnesses, and his mind in general all fled from his body, wailing in despair.
* * *
For lack of anything better to do they approached it shortly, hoping that they would have a better time in there this time around.
Most depressing, and only mildly humorous. The first thing you need to learn is that everything they teach you in those schools of yours is complete bunk. This world is populated by any number of supernatural creatures, and we Garou are only one of these. Garou is what we call ourselves. Most mortals and others call us werewolves, and you are one of us. We'll discuss your multitudinous misconceptions of our kind. The thing that attacked was a leech, or vampire. Other things, like Wraiths, or the walking dead, Changelings, known to you as the Fae, and Mages also exist. Now, as Garou, let me clear up a few misunderstandings. No, I want you to calm down. This may be a shock to you, but I'm not going to let them come in and take you unawares tonight.
This is it he thought, I've finally gone nuts and...
You've always known you were different. The leech you encountered last night struck on it didn't he? You haven't experienced the first change yet, but I'm going to try and prepare you for it. It'll happen sometime when you've been pushed to far, when friends are in danger and you can't possibly save them. In a moment you'll have lost control. That's okay. When you next control yourself, you'll probably be standing in a pile viscera that bears little or no resemblance to what it was. If you're lucky and listen, maybe you'll maintain a bit of self-control.
It was around that time that the door opened. The men who walked in drew knives, and everything went red for a moment.
* * *
His mind reasserted itself in a few moments, and he realized that his clothes had literally burst at the seams, as if trying contain something a great deal larger then him. He was standing, covered in blood in the middle of a quartet of dead men, and...
He collapsed to his knees and vomited. When there was nothing in his stomach left to vomit he continued to dry heave for a few minutes, and all the while Teaches-The-Young, spoke softly in his mind, trying to make him feel better, explaining what had happened.
When he finally stood Teaches-The-Young asked his name. He replied Carlos Fernandez Fortuna, answering truthfully. For some reason it didn't seem so strange to have a voice speaking to him in his head anymore. At its prompting he went into the room across the hall, had a drink of wine, lay down on the bed and promptly fell asleep.
* * *
Kylith watched the whole thing on tape that night. Standing next to him was Alexander, the Tremere primogen. "You were right about encouraging that release Alex. I would not have wanted to face such a creature as it was when it was released. What do the spirits say about his training?"
"Teaches-The-Young doesn't believe that he is ready to be introduced to any of the others, and so only it has been allowed near him. But I think we should keep him a secret from the others until we know how best to use him."
"Indeed, and I concur. Come let us go to the meeting."
The other Primogen were a little upset by Kylith's making them wait. But once told that they would be deciding which clan four fledglings would be inducted into, everyone's views changed a little.
Big Max, leader of the Brujah stalked out, muttering about not being willing to allow any castoff childer into his group. Theasa looked grim, stating that none of them could possibly measure up to the standards of the Toreador, but that she would stay, simply out of morbid curiosity as to who got stuck with which clan.
The Malkavian, Cynthia, simply laughed maniacally. The venture Thomas sniffed haughtily The Gangrel had never shown up to begin with, and the Nosferatu smiled hideously.
The first one to be decided had fair hair and green eyes, and the name of Gregory. Theasa instantly rescinded her earlier statement and snatched the boy up as a Toreador. She left with her new prize shortly, already explaining to him about the intricacies of life as a Kindred, and quickly began to find out which type of artwork the young boy liked.
The second was tall, with a bookish look to his face. Thin and pale, he became a Tremere. When the others asked what his name was he replied "Afanc". Even as they tried to intimidate him an undercurrent of steely determination ran through his voice.
The third one went to the Malkavians. With a slightly disheveled appearance, he would not speak to anyone except Cynthia, and they also left shortly thereafter.
When the fourth walked out, there was no doubt as to him being a Ventrue, such was the aura of leadership that he radiated.
Inwardly Kylith wondered at Vlad's predictions' accuracy.
Author's Note: So, I'll keep working at it, but I don't know how long the next few chapters will take. I have so much to do in terms of writing. Oh, and I'd like to know what people think of the first person narrative chapters, as written from the view of the characters. I'm not sure if I should continue them or not. Please review.
When the first one of Kylith's guests awoke, he wasn't really sure what he was doing in this opulent room. And this didn't really become any clearer to him while awake. The last memory he had was of...no, it was better not to think of it said his mind. Some things were simply better left alone and not considered.
"Where am I?" He asked himself.
The answers to questions like that very rarely please the asker. Now, before you ask any stupid questions my name is Teaches-The-Young, I died a years ago, I'm your ancestor, and I'm going to teach you everything you'll need to survive as a young werewolf who is currently in the house of a vampire, and will probably find himself being used by them for some time.
"Who said that?" Asked the teenage boy.
I already told you that whelp. Now, sit down and let's get started.
Sanity, consciousnesses, and his mind in general all fled from his body, wailing in despair.
* * *
For lack of anything better to do they approached it shortly, hoping that they would have a better time in there this time around.
Most depressing, and only mildly humorous. The first thing you need to learn is that everything they teach you in those schools of yours is complete bunk. This world is populated by any number of supernatural creatures, and we Garou are only one of these. Garou is what we call ourselves. Most mortals and others call us werewolves, and you are one of us. We'll discuss your multitudinous misconceptions of our kind. The thing that attacked was a leech, or vampire. Other things, like Wraiths, or the walking dead, Changelings, known to you as the Fae, and Mages also exist. Now, as Garou, let me clear up a few misunderstandings. No, I want you to calm down. This may be a shock to you, but I'm not going to let them come in and take you unawares tonight.
This is it he thought, I've finally gone nuts and...
You've always known you were different. The leech you encountered last night struck on it didn't he? You haven't experienced the first change yet, but I'm going to try and prepare you for it. It'll happen sometime when you've been pushed to far, when friends are in danger and you can't possibly save them. In a moment you'll have lost control. That's okay. When you next control yourself, you'll probably be standing in a pile viscera that bears little or no resemblance to what it was. If you're lucky and listen, maybe you'll maintain a bit of self-control.
It was around that time that the door opened. The men who walked in drew knives, and everything went red for a moment.
* * *
His mind reasserted itself in a few moments, and he realized that his clothes had literally burst at the seams, as if trying contain something a great deal larger then him. He was standing, covered in blood in the middle of a quartet of dead men, and...
He collapsed to his knees and vomited. When there was nothing in his stomach left to vomit he continued to dry heave for a few minutes, and all the while Teaches-The-Young, spoke softly in his mind, trying to make him feel better, explaining what had happened.
When he finally stood Teaches-The-Young asked his name. He replied Carlos Fernandez Fortuna, answering truthfully. For some reason it didn't seem so strange to have a voice speaking to him in his head anymore. At its prompting he went into the room across the hall, had a drink of wine, lay down on the bed and promptly fell asleep.
* * *
Kylith watched the whole thing on tape that night. Standing next to him was Alexander, the Tremere primogen. "You were right about encouraging that release Alex. I would not have wanted to face such a creature as it was when it was released. What do the spirits say about his training?"
"Teaches-The-Young doesn't believe that he is ready to be introduced to any of the others, and so only it has been allowed near him. But I think we should keep him a secret from the others until we know how best to use him."
"Indeed, and I concur. Come let us go to the meeting."
The other Primogen were a little upset by Kylith's making them wait. But once told that they would be deciding which clan four fledglings would be inducted into, everyone's views changed a little.
Big Max, leader of the Brujah stalked out, muttering about not being willing to allow any castoff childer into his group. Theasa looked grim, stating that none of them could possibly measure up to the standards of the Toreador, but that she would stay, simply out of morbid curiosity as to who got stuck with which clan.
The Malkavian, Cynthia, simply laughed maniacally. The venture Thomas sniffed haughtily The Gangrel had never shown up to begin with, and the Nosferatu smiled hideously.
The first one to be decided had fair hair and green eyes, and the name of Gregory. Theasa instantly rescinded her earlier statement and snatched the boy up as a Toreador. She left with her new prize shortly, already explaining to him about the intricacies of life as a Kindred, and quickly began to find out which type of artwork the young boy liked.
The second was tall, with a bookish look to his face. Thin and pale, he became a Tremere. When the others asked what his name was he replied "Afanc". Even as they tried to intimidate him an undercurrent of steely determination ran through his voice.
The third one went to the Malkavians. With a slightly disheveled appearance, he would not speak to anyone except Cynthia, and they also left shortly thereafter.
When the fourth walked out, there was no doubt as to him being a Ventrue, such was the aura of leadership that he radiated.
Inwardly Kylith wondered at Vlad's predictions' accuracy.
Author's Note: So, I'll keep working at it, but I don't know how long the next few chapters will take. I have so much to do in terms of writing. Oh, and I'd like to know what people think of the first person narrative chapters, as written from the view of the characters. I'm not sure if I should continue them or not. Please review.