Bloody hell that was excruciatingly long. I'm sorry it took me so long to post these chapters. They were done weeks ago, but the computers in the Business class were down. Long story.

Chapter Six: Moving out of Check

Amanda stood nearby while two of her journeymen performed the necessary tests on the Caitiff head. She would have done it herself if she'd been younger. But in the two hundred years since her passing from the Seventh Circle of the Initiate, Amanda had ruled all those beneath her with a steal clad fist. Those who stood in her way, or attempted to usurp her quickly tasted her wrath. Back then it was easy to manipulate ones way through the chain of command, if one knew how. There was nothing so mysterious about the Tremere clan the others just didn't know it yet.

But this time there were other clans to deal with. When the Vienna House bestowed upon her the long coveted position of primogen, Amanda knew her manipulations would come to a halt for the time being. Moving from Vienna to London, then to New York then to Portland, she gained powerful allies and equally powerful enemies. She had a big part in establishing the New England Camarilla in the 1930's, aiding Prince Lazarus in purifying Maine of Sabbat followers. For a brief decade, with the consent of the Motherhouse, Amanda sat on the earliest incarnation of the Council of New England, representing the Tremere clan for all five states. There she made the bulk of her power block, gathering journeymen and initiates to support her as she made her moves, and making promises to others along the way.

Tanith was her first true ally among one of the other clans. The Tzcimisce bore a long surviving grudge against the Tremere, but here it was weakened enough to not be a problem. The Tremere outnumbered the Tzcimisce anyway, and there was nothing to gain by engaging in petty feuds. For a while Amanda was content with her position. But Lazarus ruled over a city, which held far more freedom than her own position. He could order the execution of any one of his intruders. But to order a final death, Amanda had to submit a proposal to the council, which then had to be approved by the other clans. With five members per clan and seven clans ruling over the New England territories the decisions could take weeks, even months. Amanda longed to leave her longed to have Lazarus' power, and before much time passed she was all ready going through the list of

In the 70's Zarius came before the council. Vermont was then a divided territory, and it had been under some dispute as to who should be in charge. Battles were spilling into the streets; Anarchs and Caitiff were causing incidents with now a low index of deniability. Zarius followers included Eric Peterson of the Toreador, James Reed of the Gangrel, and Vincent Pierce, the former Ventrue primogen.

Zarius was planning to take the state of Vermont as his domain. His followers were selected by their respective clans to lead as primogen, and they supported Zarius' desire to become prince. There was much debate among the council for three years. With her own following among the council, Amanda persuaded Tanith to come with her and stay at her side. Tanith agreed, and they made a deal with Zarius. (with Amanda doing most of the talking, because Tanith was busy chasing away invisible demons at the time)

Amanda sought and gained the approval of the Motherhouse. She could utilize her position as primogen to request any initiates and other subordinates she needed, and she sired many of her own progeny to be her personal followers. The motherhouse agreed to her request because there was nothing to be gained by denying it, and since Amanda had requested nothing in her time as primogen. Amanda also had a feeling that her sire was pulling strings for her, but she never questioned it.

Amanda and Tanith joined Zarius, bringing the might of the Tremere and Malkavians into Vermont.

In thirty years Amanda had accomplished far more than she could have hoped. In the lush green environments and mountainous regions, the Tremere spread out and became one of the third largest clans in the state. Many of Amanda's childer were now in the Third Circle, and others were now full fledged journeymen and chantry leaders.

With James back on the council and Sean in his place, Amanda was able to move more freely in the last two years. Sean was young and naïve, and for a primogen those were fatal traits. Amanda had all ready succeded in placing her pieces on the board before Sean had a chance to set his up.

Gangrel were such funny creatures. With all of the rivalries between theirs and other clans, no one would suspect that Amanda was using them to take the attention away from her own actions. If she could keep Zarius' eyes focused on Vermont, she could work on luring Lazarus to her.

"Let me know when you find anything," Amanda instructed the Tremere.

"Yes Primogen Amanda." They responded, never missing a beat of work.

Amanda walked down the hall, occasionally looking in on other experiments and checking to see that her subordinates weren't wasting time. Artifacts were being tested, spells were being cast, meditations were being performed. The scent of magick was strong in the air.

On her walk she came upon a room where heavy machinery used to be kept. Five rows of tables were laden with herbs, animals both dead and caged, and books of text on recorded spells and potions.

Amanda strolled down the aisles. The monitors and instructors bowed to her but did not falter from their duties. Many of the students looked up and gawked, but were quickly reprimanded with a slap along the back of the neck.

The primogen stopped at one student who was working with a live scorpion. She used a small metal pot for a cauldron, filled with what smelled like ram's blood and crushed nettles. The student opened the cage and removed the scorpion, gripping it by the tail. While concoction came to a boil, the student placed the struggling scorpion on to a round glass container. She then took a sewing needle and drove it into the creature's brain, killing it. When it stopped struggling, the student spread its legs out flat and tied a piece of rawhide string to the creature' tail. She then lifted the scorpion up so that it dangled from the rawhide, and lowered it into the potion. Amanda remained silent as the student recited the incantations in perfect ancient tongue. This was a disciplined childe who took her work seriously. When the incantations were complete she removed the scorpion and placed it on the glass plate to cool off.

"An excellent piece of work," Amanda spoke up, startling the student. "Can you tell me the practical applications of this particular medallion?"

The student stood to attention and faced her primogen as she spoke.

"Scorpions are poisonous arachnids. They can be used to infect and poison the target of its possessor's spells. Sickness can be spread to masses by simply placing it in water. And-"

Amanda held up a hand, silencing the student.

"Acceptable but not perfect. When I asked you to tell me about its applications I had expected a complete recitation. Study your books well and remember them word for word. I will ask you again at an unexpected time."

The student bowed her head nervously. "Yes Primogen Amanda."

Amanda took the medallion and tied it around her neck. She told the student to carry on and went about her walk.

In the lower offices floggings were carried out. This punishment was reserved for insubordinate neonates, and there were many among this small branch of Tremere society. Amanda was quite thankful when the initiates of Lazarus' City came to Vermont. And with Benjamin placed conveniently under her thumb as well, eventually the prince would have to come to Vermont to deal with the matter himself. Setting up the assassination would be simple, but for now she had to be patient.


Dennis was amazed at how easily he could move through the crowd of passengers, and not get seen by a single one. All he needed to do was imagine himself as an invisible form and he could be standing in front of someone for hours without being seen.

He and Gunn spent the nights tracking down the vampires called Anarchs and Caitiff, draining their blood. White River Junction was full of these renegades, and their blood made Dennis stronger than a normal neonate.

"Ordinarily this is a punishable offense," Gunn explained. "All Final Deaths are authorized and sanctioned by the prince and his primogen. But Allen senses difficult times coming, and he wants the Assamites to be on the side of whoever wins. That's where you come in."

"Those Tremere thought Allen was their primogen," Dennis recalled. "They still think I'm one of them."

"And that is what you must convince them of for the time being," Gunn said. "Though you will not have the powers to shape shift for sometime, you will still be able to elude them if they catch on. The remaining fledglings are mere initiates, and they are unaware of the full force of their powers. Even Benjamin is a mere journeymen and not a sorcerer."

"Will I be able to fight them if I have to?"

"No. Not for long and not without your full range of capabilities. But you needn't worry about that for now. Just keep an eye on Benjamin and make sure he stays in Vermont. If your party should be overwhelmed by the Gangrel then tell them you were kidnapped, that should keep you safe."

Dennis gulped. He remembered Allan telling the Tremere to kill any Gangrel they came across. All ready three drifters and a local fry cook at one of the diners was killed off, all Gangrel. Just what kind of world was he being dragged into?

Gunn brought Dennis back to the motel where the Tremere were staying. Gunn disappeared and Dennis went into room 4, where Gale, Roen, Silvia, and Peter meditated.

"Where have you been?" Benjamin demanded, getting in Dennis' personal space.

"You told me to get lost," Dennis reminded him. He was tougher now, knowing his position. Although the world of the Kindred was frightening he had to admit that there could be advantages to this life. "I killed several Gangrel like we were ordered."

Benjamin's eyes narrowed. Dennis closed his thoughts off like Gunn taught him. After a few minutes when Benjamin could find nothing he shrugged.

"Good boy. Perhaps you will be of some use to me after all. Here," Benjamin handed Dennis a room key. "Go into the next room and get some rest. Be ready to leave at a moment's notice."

"Yes sir," Dennis replied.


Trent just barely made it to the top of the stairwell when a figure came out of nowhere and knocked him to the floor. He still had a grip on the needle and tried to stab with it, but the figure was gone. The smell of old blood was nearby though.

His preternatural senses allowed him to see navigate the dark corridor. The carpet smelled of urine and other foul odors. Plaster along the walls peeled and cracked in some parts, and electrical sockets were empty and rusted. The scent of mold was even stronger here. Trent swore that when he got back home he would demand this house be burnt.

Trent followed the scent of blood down the hall. He kept glancing behind him, expecting a sneak attack from all directions and wishing Sean was in here with him. Hell, any other Kindred would be welcome company at this point, even the Brujah.

A hatchet swung out from a bedroom, missing him by an inch. Trent raised the needle and swung, hitting pay dirt.

"Agh!" Someone shouted. Trent picked up the ax and entered the room to see the Assamite primogen bleeding and trying to get the needle from his body.

"What are you doing here?" Trent asked, shocked.

His guard was down and Allen took advantage. Trent held up the handle of the ax trying to keep Allen at arm's length. Allen grabbed it and as they struggled Trent took advantage of the opportunity and kicked him in the groin.

Stunned and somewhat shocked, Allen fell back. Trent rushed him, using the butt of the axe to force Allen towards a window at the rear of the room. Allen grabbed the handle and yanked hard. Trent was no match for the older Kindred's strength and unwillingly gave the weapon back to his attacker.

Allen blocked the doorway and tried to back Trent into a corner. Trent changed his tactics. "Allen, it's me, Trent. Remember? I'm Mary sired me. If you kill me she will have you killed and there'll only be more bloodshed and hatred between the clans. This is stupid and you know it."

Allen's look didn't change and he didn't stop his slow and menacing advance on the young kindred. He raised the axe and swiped horizontally. Trent hit the floor fast and rolled over in time to miss a deadly chop. The blade lodged into the floor and Trent took the opportunity to get to his feet and crash through the window. Trent fell two floors and landed on the concrete patio. He recovered quickly and got out of the way just as Allen hit the ground. Trent leapt from the patio and onto the snowy ground, calling out to Sean as he ran for the car.

Trent reached the left wing of the house when Allen finally abandoned the axe and flew, full force, into his back, knocking him to the ground. Allen reverted from hawk form and glowered over Trent for what seemed like minutes. Trent rolled onto his back and looked, frightened, upon his attacker. Slowly he inched backwards, feeling for the axe as he moved, but knowing that Allen could pretty much finish him off any moment. Just then a loud howl split their ears, and the sound of paws kicking up snow followed.

Sean slammed into Allen, and when the Assamite was pinned down, leapt off just as quickly. Another second later the gargoyle bounded into Allen, accidentally goring him with its tusks. Trent got to his feet and Sean, in human form led him away from the violence which ensued. The gargoyle seemed to forget about them now that it had something new to tear apart.

When they got to the car Trent told Sean everything that had happened. How Allen didn't seem to recognize Trent, or even have the ability to communicate normally.

"Something isn't right," Sean said when he finished. "Allen can be a bit of a moron, but he's not stupid. Did you find anything else in the house?"

Trent shook his head. "Nothing helpful, but then I didn't have much time to look around."

"Well, those two should be busy for a while," Sean said, looking back at the house. "Give me about twenty minutes. I'll see if I can find something."

Trent waited in the passenger seat. His clothes were soaked and ruined, and right now he'd do anything for a hot shower and a cup of coffee. He fidgeted nervously, hoping the gargoyle would be occupied with Allen long enough for Sean to save this night from becoming a dangerous waste.

A couple minutes later than he promised, Sean emerged from the house with a few items that Trent hadn't found. When he got in the car he handed them to Trent. There was a notebook, an empty wallet, and an old tattered school photograph of a black girl with long hair.

"I sensed a human boy had held that picture," Sean explained, pulling around and driving back to the road. "And I remembered the police report about the girl who'd said her boyfriend went missing last night. I found that wallet in one of the guest bathrooms. I'm guessing it contained cash at one point, but if you give it a good strong wiff you smell-"

"Kindred have touched this recently.," Trent interrupted, holding the wallet in his hands. "I'm getting Allen's impressions all over it. I know that sounds weird but-"

"No it isn't. This is just the first time you've used your sensory abilities," Sean explained. "If you hone them in you can eventually sense how many people have touched it and for how long. Allen had a hold of that wallet for at least three days, and the money inside must have been taken by the girl who held it afterwards."

Trent opened the glove compartment and placed the photo and the wallet inside. Then he took a look at the note book and flipped through the pages. Words and paragraphs were written all over the pages in some language that Trent couldn't identify. Whoever owned the notebook was also an avid calligraphy enthusiast, and at a closer inspection Trent could see traces of red in the ink.

"Is this…is this rose fluid?"

"That's what I'm guessing." Sean answered. "And if I recognize the hand writing, I'd say it was Tanith's."

Trent tossed the book in the glove compartment and slammed it shut angrily.

"Are there any primogen who aren't conspiring to kill everyone?"

"I think I'm the obvious answer to that."

"You know what I mean."

"Let's stop at a motel somewhere and get something to eat. I should contact Mike and the others to see what they've found, and we could both use some rest."

Trent didn't answer. Within minutes of settling into the seat, he was fast asleep.


Amanda was only slightly distressed to hear the news of Allen's death. And she was even more distraught to learn that two of her gargoyles were injured and dying.

"Retrieve of them what you can," Amanda ordered the informant. "Is there any evidence that the Gangrel or the Ventrue killed Allen?"

"None that we've been able to find," the man's voice crackled over the phone. "There was a struggle but it all points to the Assamite. And the gargoyles were acting on your orders to keep intruders out."

Good, Amanda thought. At least there's no way to implicate the Tremere.

"What of the Maine initiates and Benjamin. Have you been tracking them?"

"Yes, and they have been following your orders. But with all due respect Primogen, the Gangrel are going to declare war on us eventually."

Ordinarily Amanda would have chastised the informant for doubting her judgment. But in order to keep them efficient she decided she'd have to at least explain herself this one time.

"Only the primogen can declare war on us. And so long as Sean believes that the Tremere from the Maine chantry are responsible for the killings, he won't go that far."

Amanda issued a few final instructions. Then she hung up and called Benjamin. Don't use that tone of voice with me. I don't care if you were sleeping; Sean has been to the mansion. He'll be in your area soon enough. Get yourselves out of there and make your move for St. Johnsbury tonight. Plenty of Gangrel there to kill off while you wait for my next call.