I blink as the dark red liquid obscures my vision. I wipe my hand over my eyes to clear the blood away and look at its former owner, the pathetic Camarilla who deigns to call himself a vampire. He screams in pain as I jerk my blade upward and out through his shoulder, ripping more of the flesh of his heart away and causing him to lose even more precious vitae. I pause for a second and watch him clutch at his wound with fear evident in his eyes. I am so disgusted by his screams of terror, that I do not see his attack until it is too late. As his knife plunges into my shoulder my respect for his martial prowess raises a small notch. He pulled off a good feint, but should have used the opportunity for a better attack. He had seen me destroy the bestial one, and had to know that my flesh was too tough for a simple knife to cause me much damage. But it does not matter; he will not live long enough to think about his mistake. I grin as I stare into his eyes, my fangs extending. "A good diversion and attack young one, one worthy of respect. So I shall give you a quick and honorable death." I say, and as I see the terror fill his eyes again I swing my blade once more, taking off his head. I watch his body crumble to the ground and lie still, then snap my head around to search for my next foe.
There are none left, they have all been destroyed. I look around for the other members of my pack and the other pack that was with us. Counting myself, there are only four of us standing. A couple are lying on the ground, either unconscious or beaten into torpor. I had seen two others be destroyed, and as to the rest I have no idea. Then I see them, coming back down the street and from the alleys, bristling with weapons, and I stare at them as they come to a halt, the realization that they are too late finally coming to them. I shake my head silently and turn back to my fellow survivors. Of the other three, I know two of them. One is Christoph, an antitribu of the Ventrue clan. The other is a Nosferatu antitribu who calls himself Andreas. Both are followers of the same Path as I. I have met them before and spoken with them on more than one occasion. The third I don't know, but I overhear some of those that returned saying that he is a Pander. Andreas and Christoph and I look at one another and they nod silently at me; I know they are feeling and thinking the same as I. The rest of the packs have shown their cowardice by fleeing the battle. No matter what excuse they come up with, it does not hide the fact that they put their own unlives ahead of their duty.
They come up and look at the carnage, and my ductus, an arrogant Lasombra named Lisa, speaks to Andreas, Christoph, and me; "What the hell was that about?"
I look at her silently for a moment, and then turn my head to review the results of the combat. I return my gaze to her and ask, "What was what about?"
She snarls at me, "Don't be an asshole and play stupid with me Thomas, I want to know why the hell you decided to stay here instead of following the rest of us to get regrouped?" She stares up at me defiantly, trying to push her authority forth. I am tempted to smack her arrogant smirk off her face, how dare she talk to me that way? I am easily twice her age as a Cainite; I have been around for one and a half centuries and she presumes to know combat tactics better than I? I close my eyes and force myself to take a deep, calming breath, to cool down my anger. Regardless of my personal feelings towards her, I will not strike her nor even engage her in an argument, she is my ductus and I have sworn to serve her. My honor binds me by my word, to act against her would be to sacrifice my honor and be no better than she, and that I cannot allow.
I stare into her eyes as I speak softly, "We stayed because our honor demanded it." I turn and walk back to Andreas and Christoph and we slowly make our way over to the bodies of our fallen, helping to carry those who are in torpor, getting any useful equipment from those who have met Final Death. I silently say a prayer for the dead, commending them on serving the Sabbat and the grace of Caine, and their willingness to die for what they believed. So few amongst the Sabbat understand that concept anymore, that commitment to a cause. Nowadays they are only interested in their petty power struggles and staying alive a little longer. They do not have the conviction to be true warriors of the Sword of Caine. I suddenly realize that Lisa is yelling at me, trying to get my attention, and so I stand and turn around to face her. She has gathered the rest of my pack around us and is chastising me for walking away.
"Don't you ever fucking walk away when I am talking to you Thomas! You hear me? You do not leave until I give you permission." She stares intensely at me and gives me another one of those smirks, thinking she's won. I stare back at her, struggling to keep the Beast at bay from tearing her insolent head off.
"Shut up." I say quietly. Her eyes widen and a look of shock appears on her face, it is almost amusing to look at.
"What???" she screams at me. "How dare you? How dare you speak to your ductus that way?"
I lean towards her and snarl back at her, "How dare you? You are a coward concerned with saving your own skin over the duty you have to the Sabbat." At my words, she looks as if she is going to have a brain aneurysm. "You can try and deny it all you want, but for you so called adeptness at leadership and fighting, you crumbled when the test came. The Camarilla showed up and you fled and hid." I gesture back towards Christoph and Andreas and the Pander, "We stayed. We fought." I lean in closer to her, "And we succeeded." I lean back and look at her.
The anger in her is apparent on her face, she looks like she is ready to kill someone, and her anger is focused on me. "I will kill you for your insolence you bastard!" The space around her darkens as she summons forth her powers of shadow into long arms waiting to tear into me. In a blur of motion and the faintest sound of drawing weapons, Andreas and Christoph are by my side, ready to aid me if Lisa is foolish enough to attack. She sees their arrival and pauses, then turns to look back at the rest of my pack. Her anger rises even more at the look of amusement on the faces of most of them, she hears their whispers saying that I am right and they agree with me. She lets her shadows dissipate and turns around and stalks off angrily, yelling back at us to get going. Yes, let us go, we must return to the Archbishop and give him a report of our mission.
* Three nights later*
We are summoned to meet with the Archbishop this evening. I awaken and go through my nightly exercises to keep in good practice with my blade. When I hear everyone else moving around, I dress and go into the main room to meet with them. I stifle a grin as I gaze at Lisa, the branding she received for her cowardice three nights ago so obviously visible. I know it grates on her for two reasons. First, that she had to admit to not being as strong as she claimed to be and having everyone know it. The second is that she had to receive the punishment from the Archbishop, one whom she feels to be inferior blood. Lisa has always thought that the antitribu were less in the eyes of the Sabbat than the Lasombra or the Tzimisce. And the fact that Archbishop Ortega is a Serpent of the Light really gets under her skin. She scowls at my arrival and does not look towards me as she gets herself prepared to leave.
We arrive at the city communal haven for our meeting with His Excellency slightly early. His Paladins greet us at the entrance and lead us to His Excellency's chambers. We enter and I genuflect before him, showing him the proper respect for one of his station. Archbishop Ortega nods to us and commands me to rise. He tells us that he has another mission for us; one that he felt was vital to our siege of the Camarilla domain. We are to scout around as we did last time, but to also create a Masquerade breaking ruckus in order to test their capabilities of covering up breaches, as well as giving us an idea of how strong of control they have over the mortals. He tells us that we are to keep conflict with the Camarilla to a minimum, that the information we are gathering to be more important for the time being. I nod; there will be plenty of time to kill Camarilla later. He gives us our blessing and sends us on our way, telling us he wants a report by midnight tomorrow at the latest.
As we enter Camarilla territory, I keep my senses wary, constantly searching for any signs of the Camarilla. We have already committed a few acts of Masquerade breachage; Lisa using her shadow powers to kill some mortals in a local fast food restaurant. Sarah, the Malkavian, swerved our vehicle into another and then proceeded to drain its occupant of his blood when he came over to see if we were hurt in the wreck. So now we are walking along the sidewalk, searching for some Camarilla sign or some signal of the mortal authorities. We have had to make a few detours; many roads have been closed down for construction. Suddenly, as we round a corner and start to cross the street, everything goes to hell.
An amplified voice rings out, "Freeze!! This is the police! Put your weapons down and lie on the ground now!" We all freeze, taken off guard by the sudden ambush. A stray thought clicks into place as I make a connection. The blocked roads, the detours, they were herding us to this spot! That is just the kind of tactics the Camarilla would use. I peer into the lights and make out the police entrenched behind their cars with lots of cover, confirming my thought. Yes, this was most certainly planned. I look over to Lisa, my eyes conveying my silent question. She looks at me, then back at the cops and thinks for a moment, then smiles her feral grin.
"We will fight. They are just mortals, we can get past them. Besides, it will make another good breach for those Camarilla bastards to cover up." She looks at us each and then nods, throwing her arms out towards the police and extending her control over the shadows. As two of the cops are heaved bodily into the brick wall of a nearby building, most of the others open fire immediately, showing little fear of the shadowy arms. This sends a warning bell off in my head; these aren't ordinary cops. I draw my blade and prepare for combat when a loud squeal of tires from behind us diverts my attention. A SWAT van screeches to a halt and a good dozen men hop out, armed and armored in standard SWAT gear. We run and dive behind what little cover we can find, an old car and a couple of newspaper vendor machines, as the SWAT men open up with their rifles. I look over at Lisa and yell at her over the din.
"We can't stay and fight any more, these guys are too well equipped. We are caught in a crossfire; they'll tear us to shreds. We have to get back to the Archbishop to report!" She looks at me grudgingly for a moment, and then nods as the logic of it sinks in. I spy an open door to a building nearby and a plan forms in my mind. I must make sure that our duty is completed and that my pack is protected. I cannot let my allies run headfirst into unnecessary danger. I turn Lisa back around towards me and yell again, "I want you to take the pack and run for that door. Get inside and head for the roof, we can make our escape that way. I'm going to draw their fire and give you a few moments." She starts to protest, but I cut her off. "Don't argue. You and I both know that I am the hardest to damage of this pack. I can take more hits and keep going than any of you. Now GO!!" I give her a little shove and then leap up and out into the street, not giving her any time to argue with me further. I duck and weave my way through the streets, heading for the SWAT members, using my supernatural speed to give me a bit of an advantage.
As I maneuver, I keep the door in sight and watch as they rush through it. After the last one passes through, I sprint for it myself. I stagger and nearly fall over as a multitude of rounds slam into my back and sides. Most don't penetrate, but those that do are easily taken care of by my vitae. I burst through the open doorway and start up the stairs. I am so focused on getting through that it takes me a few moments to realize that I am hearing the sounds of combat above me. I continue my rush up the stairs, finally coming out onto a hallway where the fight is raging on. As I come through the door, Lisa slams into the wall next to me, having been thrown. Sarah is on the ground, serious looking wounds across her face and chest. The other members are fighting, well, something. It is moving so fast I cannot make it out, but for every blur of motion another wound appears on one of my packmates. Then in a sudden motion, the other three are flung away from the blur to slam into the walls, and I finally get a glimpse of their assailant. It is the Camarilla Sheriff, I recognize him from our earlier scouting missions. I stare at him intensely, my blade in front of me, watching him very carefully. He is a cunning and experienced opponent. He is rumored to be around 300 years old or even more, and very good at what he does.
As I watch him, I speak quietly, yet forcefully at Lisa. "Take the pack. Go to the roof and make your escape. I will take care of this one." She starts to protest at me yet again, and I turn to her, my anger quite apparent. "GO!! You must get back and report to the Archbishop! It is our duty to get this information to him, and this mission is more important than my own unlife or well-being!!" She looks shocked at my outburst for a moment, then runs to the other pack members and starts running for the far stairs. However, this distraction was more than the Sheriff needed. He is on me in an instant, his claws raking deep gouges across my throat and chest. In reflex I swing my blade, slicing through his stomach. He growls and leaps back, then bounds at me again with that uncanny speed before I can regain my footing. I manage to get a few more blows in, but his speed, strength, and toughness are just too much for me.
Within a few minutes I am lying on the ground, a torn mess. My right arm has been severed at the elbow, and my left leg is shattered at the kneecap. I have many more wounds from his claws over my body, and I am teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. I look up into his scowling face as he raises his clawed hand again, preparing to rip out my throat and send me to my Final Death. As I watch the hand fall in slow motion, I wonder if Lisa will be able to get the rest of the pack out safely. I did all I could to protect them and give them time to get away. I feel no regrets or remorse however; I have always been willing to sacrifice my life for the greater cause of the Sabbat. From the moment I saw who the opponent of my pack was, I never had a doubt that I would not win this battle. But victory does not matter, not in the slightest. I did my duty to both pack and sect. I gave the success of this mission a slightly better chance with my sacrifice, and I protected my packmates as I had given my word and swore to do. My word is my law and my bond, what I swore to do; I do even at the expense of my own life.
Such is the price of honor.
References to products created by White Wolf or other companies are not challenges to their copyrights.
This page © 2002 anneke@scarywhitegirl.net