:: Startled, the monks scratch their bald heads, looking to each other for suggestions. A portly monk, perhaps the elder of the three, appraoches you ::
"You poor child. Certainly we will help if we may. As for this old cart, why it is loaded full of pigs' blood. We collect it for the making of blood pudding from a farmer near just outside the city. We work a small parish just a mile from here. The Abbey? You must mean the old Franciscan abbey :: An ugly, sharp nosed monk spits when he hears the order's name ::
Why it is many miles South, near the shore just above a lovely little fishing community. I suspect it would take you a few days by foot, faster by horse. You are welcome to follow us to our parish. We are only a couple of hours away and the sun is rising. What a beautiful day we have ahead of us. God be praised."
Moderator: durden
:: The first monk drops immediately. The others, rush to their fallen brother. You quickly grab the old man and issue the command several times. Confused and scared, he finally succumbs. The final monk issues a serious of hurried prayers, but alas, no one hears as he too fails to resist your awesome vampiric might. You climb into a barrel once you are confident that all sighns of struggle with the canvas tarp have been hidden. Your Beast surfaces as you immerse yourself in blood. It is still fresh enough to gain sustenance and you consume past the point of being full. Sick and tired, you shut your eyes and give in to sleep as well. Hopefully, no one finds those sleeping monks out there... ::
:: Your sleep is restful, tucked in your blood-filled cocoon. You have dreams of emerging as a butterfly. A blood-red harbinger of the death that awaits mortals of this land. Your's is a righteous butterfly cleansing of the weak, the culling of the herd of masses, innocent to the litany of incessant violence and supernatural war. This "War of the Princes" is nothing to you, as you are a transcended being, an awakened among the somnambulist crowd. You think back to your maker and the new kindred, clearly more powerful than you are - than you were...as the new butterfly form gives you a cosmic *bump* What the hell was *thud* that?
You feel your blood flowing strongly, ready to animate your dead flesh another night. Time to rise -
You pop open the barrel top carefully, hoping you are still where you left off. Those hopes fade as you see only cold stone around you. Six other barrels, hopefully not full of sleeping Cainites, rest beside you. There is a pile of straw and bags probably filled with beans or wheat. It looks as though you are in a basement. Oh hell! Is it back in Venice!
The small cellar leads up some short wooden steps into... Who knows? ::
You feel your blood flowing strongly, ready to animate your dead flesh another night. Time to rise -
You pop open the barrel top carefully, hoping you are still where you left off. Those hopes fade as you see only cold stone around you. Six other barrels, hopefully not full of sleeping Cainites, rest beside you. There is a pile of straw and bags probably filled with beans or wheat. It looks as though you are in a basement. Oh hell! Is it back in Venice!
The small cellar leads up some short wooden steps into... Who knows? ::
::mario climbs out, staining the ground red as he walks to the door, and listens::
::waiting until he hears nothing threatening him, he opens the door, and explores his surrounding, being as stealthy as some who drips a trail of gore with little experience in stealth can be.::
::waiting until he hears nothing threatening him, he opens the door, and explores his surrounding, being as stealthy as some who drips a trail of gore with little experience in stealth can be.::
Threading the Gerbil since 1982
:: You lift up the cellar door and peek around. It is a simple stone one-roomed building. There are some simple supplies around and large stack of chooped wood in the corner. Out of the window you spot a small parish church. The outbuilding you are in rests about a hundred yards off. It is a cool night outside. It is late in the year and the first snowfall is expected soon. From the wind you can feel through cracks in the old building, likely older than the church, you wonder if tonight is the night.
You drip behind you what looks like a murder scene as you carefully peer around outside. It is a quiet night. The area around the buildings is lightly forested. Hopefully, you were not taken far.
As you step outside, confident that no one is near, a priest rounds the corner. We drops the sack he is carrying and mumbles something in terror as he passes out from the gruesome sight before him, dropping heavily to the ground ::
"F-for your hands are defiled with blood, and your fingers with iniquity..."
:: You hear others in the distance. They likely heard the man's commotion.
You drip behind you what looks like a murder scene as you carefully peer around outside. It is a quiet night. The area around the buildings is lightly forested. Hopefully, you were not taken far.
As you step outside, confident that no one is near, a priest rounds the corner. We drops the sack he is carrying and mumbles something in terror as he passes out from the gruesome sight before him, dropping heavily to the ground ::
"F-for your hands are defiled with blood, and your fingers with iniquity..."
:: You hear others in the distance. They likely heard the man's commotion.
::mario bends down and picks up the priest, then runs out into the woods, and keeps running. when the man comes to, he questions him as though all were normal. except for the blood and being in the woods and the intense stare, and the panic.::
"excuse me brother. where are we, and would you happen to know how to get to {x} monastery?"
"excuse me brother. where are we, and would you happen to know how to get to {x} monastery?"
Threading the Gerbil since 1982
:: The priest wakes after a good hour of running on your part. His moans alert you to the fact that you are likely causing him some physical discomfort, as his position over your shoulder seems to be causing frequent impact of his genitals upon your shoulder. You set him down and begin to question him. He weeps and mutters out prayers in Latin. Your knowledge of the language is still limited, but you beleive his words to be final in their nature. He thinks you are going to kill him. When you mention the abbey, he shows some concern upon his face ::
"You-you mean The Abbey of the Franciscans? It is some ways South of here. Our's is a simple parish. We have no dealings with them. Brother Rudolfo visited once I think. Yes, but he never spoke of it. We are told they are scholars. :: Gaining confidence that you are not killing him, the priest examines the blood ::
Why my son, are you covered in blood. Such an..an unholy thing. Are you injured? I-er, my fellow brothers may...uh...perhaps you should continue on your journey. I imaginge it will take at least four days by foot. Such a journey. I cannot offer you our horse. Poor Brunellus is our only... ::Pulling himself to his feet, the priest moves slowly away::
I must return. Bless you my son. Bless you!" :: He walks backwards slowly, finally darting off in a mad run back toward the parish::
"You-you mean The Abbey of the Franciscans? It is some ways South of here. Our's is a simple parish. We have no dealings with them. Brother Rudolfo visited once I think. Yes, but he never spoke of it. We are told they are scholars. :: Gaining confidence that you are not killing him, the priest examines the blood ::
Why my son, are you covered in blood. Such an..an unholy thing. Are you injured? I-er, my fellow brothers may...uh...perhaps you should continue on your journey. I imaginge it will take at least four days by foot. Such a journey. I cannot offer you our horse. Poor Brunellus is our only... ::Pulling himself to his feet, the priest moves slowly away::
I must return. Bless you my son. Bless you!" :: He walks backwards slowly, finally darting off in a mad run back toward the parish::
"well, shit. shit on me. shit. four days?"
::as mario wonders how he will ever survive four days in the wilderness, a place he was taught was filled with all things terrifying, a thought occurs to him. if he buries himself in loose soil every night, he can survive the sun. finding a nearby stream, mario washes himself off, then moves on in the direction he thinks the abbey is. about an hour and a half before sunrise, he begins digging his hole for the evening, gets in, and buries himself up to his arms. then he asks himself an important questions: "how am i going to cover up my face and arms?" and then begins to panic. Mario tries desperately to force himself down into the soil as the first rays of the sun peirce the canopy of the forest. as sleep takes him, mario's last thoughts are spent wondering if he got deep enough.::
::as mario wonders how he will ever survive four days in the wilderness, a place he was taught was filled with all things terrifying, a thought occurs to him. if he buries himself in loose soil every night, he can survive the sun. finding a nearby stream, mario washes himself off, then moves on in the direction he thinks the abbey is. about an hour and a half before sunrise, he begins digging his hole for the evening, gets in, and buries himself up to his arms. then he asks himself an important questions: "how am i going to cover up my face and arms?" and then begins to panic. Mario tries desperately to force himself down into the soil as the first rays of the sun peirce the canopy of the forest. as sleep takes him, mario's last thoughts are spent wondering if he got deep enough.::
Threading the Gerbil since 1982
:: Curled in a fetal position, returned to Mother Earth's blessed womb, you sleep the sleep of one truly at home. Well, you are uncomfortable as hell and worms attack your ears, but you are otherwise fine for the night (rolled enough successes). Maybe it would been a good idea to return for that horse the priest mentioned, but oh well. This must have been how early vampires did it. Or perhaps they didn't travel far.
Another odd dream plagues you. You find yourself perched on a cliff, high in the mountains. Winged musicians blare trumpets in your ears. Hailstones pelt you as you seek to escape the deafening roar of the instruments. You scratch at your ears as the music intensifies, desperate to end the torment. Flesh tears in your frenzy, dropping blood upon the earth beneath you. This blood, mixed with the melting hailstones, warms you. As the blood now flows freely, the blood collecting at your feet heats, further melting the ice around you. Your powerful vitae combusts. The melt water drowns out the trumpets. You slowly realize the power of your blood as again, you feel the pull of the blood, calling you awake for another night. Another night safe from the sun. Another night to ponder your slow march through the ages. But first, you need to get out of this damn hole ::
Another odd dream plagues you. You find yourself perched on a cliff, high in the mountains. Winged musicians blare trumpets in your ears. Hailstones pelt you as you seek to escape the deafening roar of the instruments. You scratch at your ears as the music intensifies, desperate to end the torment. Flesh tears in your frenzy, dropping blood upon the earth beneath you. This blood, mixed with the melting hailstones, warms you. As the blood now flows freely, the blood collecting at your feet heats, further melting the ice around you. Your powerful vitae combusts. The melt water drowns out the trumpets. You slowly realize the power of your blood as again, you feel the pull of the blood, calling you awake for another night. Another night safe from the sun. Another night to ponder your slow march through the ages. But first, you need to get out of this damn hole ::
::mario, forgeting he buried himself, nearly frenzies as he claws his way out of the earth. gasping (needlessly) for air, he finally succeeds, and then ponders how exactly he will get where he's supposed to be. "if only i knew how to ride," he thinks to himself as he climbs a tall tree to get a better view of the surrounding area, in hopes of finding a village from which he can steal sustenance and supplies to shield him from the day during his travels.::
Threading the Gerbil since 1982
:: You gain a good vantage, as you effortlessly climb the tree (5 successes, roll your own damn dice). This area of Italy has been extensively deforested since the time of Rome. As far as you can see, there is nothing but lightly wooded areas and hills, leading into mountains in the distance. The air is growing colder. There is a hard, but brief rain just before morning.
If you continue this way, you'll have three more days. Miserable, but manageable. The ground will remain wet with rain. As long as you maintain your pace, following near the coast, you will arrive on the outskirts of a small village just before dawn ::
Survival rolls http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1590726/
If you continue this way, you'll have three more days. Miserable, but manageable. The ground will remain wet with rain. As long as you maintain your pace, following near the coast, you will arrive on the outskirts of a small village just before dawn ::
Survival rolls http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1590726/
)End - Mario's Flight from Venice
(Lol. Ok Cheyne. For others that wish for more transparency from their Storyteller, I'd be happy to on most occasions, let you roll your own dice and I will post the rolls I make if you wish)
:: Mario has gone three days without vitae at this point. The blood you drained from the Bishop of Ravenna has kept you going, but the Beast craves new blood. The map says you are in or near Ravenna now. Wonder if they appointed a new Bishop yet...
You see several villagers docking their small wooden boats, tethering them to a long pier that needs repair. Children still play outside, freed from their daily chores. You naturally search for the nearest church to satisfy your thirst. Oddly enough, there are no signs of priestly activity. A modest cross adorns a building painted a blue-ish gray/ Such a small building may only support one or two priests. A large cemetery sits of the edge of town. Given the number of graves, this town has likely been around for at least several generations.
You move stealthy around the perimeter, seeking prey and shelter. You see a building marked "Inn." You could certainly use a place to sleep. The map indicates that the Abbey should be very close. Someone here should be able to help you find it... ::
[At this point, we should move the story over to Location: The Town]
:: Mario has gone three days without vitae at this point. The blood you drained from the Bishop of Ravenna has kept you going, but the Beast craves new blood. The map says you are in or near Ravenna now. Wonder if they appointed a new Bishop yet...
You see several villagers docking their small wooden boats, tethering them to a long pier that needs repair. Children still play outside, freed from their daily chores. You naturally search for the nearest church to satisfy your thirst. Oddly enough, there are no signs of priestly activity. A modest cross adorns a building painted a blue-ish gray/ Such a small building may only support one or two priests. A large cemetery sits of the edge of town. Given the number of graves, this town has likely been around for at least several generations.
You move stealthy around the perimeter, seeking prey and shelter. You see a building marked "Inn." You could certainly use a place to sleep. The map indicates that the Abbey should be very close. Someone here should be able to help you find it... ::
[At this point, we should move the story over to Location: The Town]