2. Origins of the Vampyre (cont)

Game II – The Origin of the Vampyre [continued]

5th April, 2019.

Act I

Scene i: Border of Serbia.

The assassin folded his collar up after lowering the peak of his tricorne hat (taken from the corpse of Isvan) to remain unnoticed by the line of soldiers and horses, wandering south into the lands won back from the Ottoman Caliphs. There was no opportunity for the villain to deviate from the road until late noon, when he called out to the neighbouring baggage wain to inform the officers he would catch up with them at the next village.

Accepting the man’s excuse to repair the harness between the horses he drove, the soldiers continued in formation along the wild passes. All but his mouth and chin were eclipsed by the brim of the dead man’s hat, smiling and nodding to the rear guard of the convoy as they passed, waiting for their white buff uniforms to fade in the distant snow. Once certain that he was alone with the crates, the docile actor suddenly came to action, driving the horses and wagon further from the muddy thoroughfare into the long grass.

Hatchet in hand, the serf quickly threw back the canvas weather-proofing of the wagon to expose the four boxes marked ‘munitions’, pausing only to decide which of them he would strike first. Each thud echoed like a drum in the diurnal sleep of Johann, waking slowly to the excitement of the rats that shared his coffin as splinters of daylight grew larger with each slash of the axe.

Rodents peaked out from the small aperture Johann had prepared for his kin earlier, darting about in alarm as the Nosferatu cloaked himself in a web of shadows inside the crate. With no more than half the lid remaining, the last rays of the winter sun glanced through to threaten his unlife, then the would-be-assassin’s hand reached through the crate’s umbra to make contact with his leprous skin.

Startled, the axeman flinched at the touch and swung again at the body within as it came to ‘life’ (Johann), whom was now revealed in the half light as though a twisted demon. Skin smoking in the weak light, Johann struggled with the other to control the axe, holding his throat with a blistering hand. The squeak of nails popping from the other crates brought with them Friedrich and Logan, whom fought against the caustic burn of the fading sun to finish their potential killer.

Making use of the bayonet that Isvan had lent him hours past, Logan speared the man’s left flank as Friedrich tried to disable him with a scalpel. Poetically, as the day diminished to dusk so did the life of the serf whom had hacked their storage compartments. In his dying breath, the villain confessed to have been visited by devils such as themselves a night past, whom had ordered him to seek out their wagon and destroy whatever contents he would find in the crates. He had followed their threats to preserve the life of his own poor family, whom were now in their fell clutches.

Troubled by this news of sabotage, the coterie (joined now by Janos whom had awoken during the confession) divided from the wagon to explore the falling snow while Friedrich secured the serf’s corpse by the ankles to drain it of vitae. Crunching through the night frost along the road, Logan and Johann concluded that aside from the convoy and a few peasant carts no other travellers had used the road. With no other options but to return the wagon back to the road and resume contact with the military investigation, the two agree on a strategy until they lay eyes on Friedrich’s activity in the uncovered wagon...

A confessed physician with a macabre fascination for the flesh, here was their Tremere companion tapping the sternum of the naked corpse before making preliminary incisions down the bowels to investigate further. Crying out in alarm as to what the man was hoping to achieve, aside from the obvious roadside butchery, Janos joined them in condemning the doctor’s odd behaviour when they were charged with protecting the convoy, now hours ahead in the bleak wintery conditions.

Giving in to the demands of the many, Friedrich dropped the body from the wagon with the push of his heel before they recommenced the journey south. Their Gangrel companion whispered to the pair of draught horses to speed them onward without need of the reign or lash, carrying them all deeper into the war-torn countries of South Eastern Europe.

Scene ii: Road to Petrovaradin.

As the silhouettes of evergreens and pale beeches moved alongside the changing valley landscape of their night’s journey, the three neonates prepared themselves as best they could from the wagon’s supplies. A gentlemen’s small sword was passed to Logan whilst Johann repaired his crate with canvas and enough stuffing to keep out any light.

Before dawn a distant apparition gained pace with them, becoming evident over time as an unsaddled horse that shone silver white like the moon as it chased them through the arching boughs of forests meeting the road. Logan trained his gaze on the animal as it bucked and danced over the ice and mud, asking Janos if they should either try outrun the hunter or wait in ambush. With so many miles already between themselves and the convoy, the four kindred agree to continue the race, seeing as the White Mare hadn’t encroached any further in its pursuit during the discussion.

The bulbous towers of orthodox churches and fortifications rose between the distant black path of the Danube’s waters, to which the shuddering wagon raced as the hooves of their beasts thundered onward to the shelter of the city. Looking back to the road they had passed in furious chase, the White Mare shook its long mane in defiance as though it had met an unseen boundary, following in their wake no more as the first cockerels crowed to wake the sun.

Scene iii: Krieger’s Inn, ‘Left Bank’ of Petrovaradin.

Following the paired ruts of the convoy’s vehicles under the virgin snow led Logan and Friedrich to a German Inn, both seated on the coachman’s bench with the leading reign. With less than an hour before first light, the Viennese Scouts (Janos, Johan, Logan & Friedrich) had agreed to allow Logan to steer them back to the soldiers convoy, and hand the wagon over with a covering story that he had helped the driver after brigands had assailed them, returning the Imperial Army’s property to its owners.

So, Johann and Janos returned into their respective crates. Friedrich, however, opened his travel case and unfolded a pair of gloves, then a leather beaked plague mask. Having kept the tricorne hat from Isvan’s killer, the Tremere unfolded the brim to hang loose about his crown, before he joined Logan at the fore of the carriage.

Startled by the doctor’s actions, the Englishman asked where his sanity had gone. Friedrich had his own reasoning, interrupted when a sentinel for the army stirred from the shelter of the inn to ask their business so early in the morning, crossing the frosted road to greet them. With no time to lose in further argument, Logan acted as though the plan would continue, replying that he was returning the army wagon and branded horses.

Initially unnerved by the doctor’s morbid costume, the soldier agreed to take the wagon from their hands and more; Friedrich, introducing himself now as ‘Alistair’, a fellow Englishman like Logan, asked to speak with the company’s head physicians, to which the soldier (Bauser) relented and entered the inn to waken the said gentlemen.

Wary of the doc’s flirtation with the masquerade in summoning so much attention, Logan berated the Tremere in the interval minutes until lamps floated out from the Saxon framed house, held aloft by attendant soldiers to light the way for Colonel Buttner and the head physicians, Glaser and Flukinger. The small crowd centred on the pair waiting on the driver’s bench, asking for an explanation as to why they had been summoned out to the gloom and cold.

And an explanation they had, thanks to the smooth wits of Logan. Apologising for the idiosyncrasies of the masked man beside his good self, the Englishman repeated the fiction of aiding the mortally wounded driver, feeling it only honourable to return the military wagon as Isvan would have wanted. Appreciative of the offer, the Colonel asks for their names and destinations, should they wish to seek safety with the Imperial convoy in the treacherous borderlands.

Blessing all the saints of the bible for believing his tale at such a chill hour, the officers and doctors returned to the shelter of the inn as Logan oversaw the wagon (and Johann & Janos) being led to a carriage house with the rest of the baggage train. Once again Friedrich abandoned common sense and entered the inn, followed by the flabbergasted Logan who couldn’t believe the man’s audacity as he seated himself in masked attire amongst the crowded room.

Speaking with the ‘English’ doctor as the other soldiers and staff avoided the weird man, Glaser summarizing the mission he and Flukinger have been assigned in identifying the natural phenomena behind the ‘Vampyre’ epidemic in the Morava Valley. Glaser explained that he was the original physician who contacted Vienna for further assistance during an earlier outbreak. By these conversations does he learn that ‘Alistair’ has a rare skin condition that prevents exposure to sunlight, which had now dawned over the Danube countryside.

As the masked doctor made arrangements to join the investigation and examine the corpses of the villagers, a primal fear carried away his senses at the growing aura of early light. This compulsion dragged him in blind panic from the common room of the inn, fighting anything in his path as he climbed the stairs to the guest rooms above to shut himself into the comforting darkness.

Logan also fought against this inner compulsion, excusing himself to attend his sick friend as he followed the hurricane path of startled guests to the upper level.

Act II

Scenes i & ii: Kreiger’s Inn/Road to Belgrade.

Advancing along the trade road that led out from the ‘Left Bank’ of the river fort, the Imperial convoy wound it’s long line of soldiers and supply carts further south, carrying with them the sleeping bodies of Johann and Janos.

The discovery of Logan & Friedrich’s empty crates the following twilight drew great concern from Johann and the Gangrel, unsure if the other pair had been set upon by the unnamed foe that had struck the night before, or discovered by the soldiers. The boxed journey so far made both kindred hunger, the number of rats diminished to three small ghouls that were not enough to slake the Nosferatu’s thirst. So, they agreed to explore the sunless streets and feed before meeting again within the stables.

* * *

Miles away, back at Kreiger’s Inn, Logan stirred from his hiding place to lay eyes on the doctor’s animate form, seating itself on the bed opposite in the unlit room. His first goal was to leave the inn before any further suspicions drew the townsfolk against them, asking Friedrich to lend his aid in advancing their cause. Friedrich’s first suggestion is to acquire a horse, lawfully or otherwise. In his mind, it would be wiser to remain inside the inn for the meantime.

The debate was interrupted by a knock at their door, preceding a frightened young voice asking if the two English gentlemen were in need of anything from the house. Unbarring the handle which had been forced with a leaning chair, Sir L opened the door to greet the Innkeeper’s daughter, catching a hint of blue in her eyes before she demurely cast them to the floor, still afraid of the appearance and behaviour of the masked doctor hours earlier. Pale eyes such as hers always tightened the leash of his passions, fighting the urge to harm the innocent maid until he could dismiss her from the scene.

The exchange between Logan and the maid did not go unnoticed by the Tremere, a sardonic grin lifting his expression as he teased the Ventrue for ignoring his basic desires as a night haunting Kindred. The parley between the two soon boiled close to animosity, Logan leaving the room to walk the cold lanes of the settlement and meditate on how to catch up with the expedition.

Friedrich sought for the Host of the inn, asking the man to aid him in purchasing a horse that very night. No animal was immediately available, as far as the Host knew, but after the strange ‘Englishman’ opened his coin purse and professed he had enough gold to offset the trouble of finding any horse that could carry them out of Petrovaradin, the moustachioed Host confided that he might have such an animal. Taking a lantern from within the house to find his way in the rain and gloom, the Host led his guest toward the stables. As Friedrich closed the door on the warm light of the inn, he noted again that another guest was observing his personage, a man dressed in the furs of wild beasts like a trapper or hunter.

The halo of the raised lantern floated out before the two men, illuminating the mostly empty stalls until they reached the end of the corridor, where a workhorse was kept by the Host for his own duties and those of his family. The caramel-dun mare shivered away from the doctor’s reach, skittish around his cold demeanour. Negotiating for a bridle and saddle with extra coin, the mare was guided on to the muddy paths outside that had pooled the water of passing storms.

Logan calmed the nervous horse after emerging from the rain, agreeing with the doctor that it would be enough to carry them both. This opportunity allowed Friedrich to return into the inn and collect his belongings, stopping by the doors to the kitchen to ask for pepper-spice. The trapper, whom had been silent until this point, asked the ‘Englishman’ what his business was so close to the Balkans. He then warned the foreigner to leave ‘his’ lands and swim back over the English Channel to never return. Unperturbed, Friedrich parted with a vulgar suggestion to the other, before teasing him with his coin purse to remind him of his peasant station.

Laughing, the trapper blew him an ominous kiss.

* * *

Further south the other appointees from Vienna’s Red Court had busied themselves in hunting along the city’s warrens toward the odour of the slaughter yards. Here, moving unseen amongst the wary beasts as they huddled in the rain, Johann slaked his thirst by pricking the hides of the cattle, which calmed to his animal magnetism and allowed him ample time to replenish his strength.

Using his Cainite gifts further, the Nosferatu collected a small following of winged vermin, an oily black raven standing over five smaller bobbing pidgeons that skipped along the cobblstones and roofs in Johann’s wake of shadows. Leading this menagerie back toward the horse stables of the Belgrade inn after midnight, Janos greeted him from the packed shed, reporting that there was still no sign of the others. Cognizant that Logan and Friedrich could possibly take all night to reach them if delayed, they retired to wait amongst the sheltered coach house, hiding amongst wagons and draught beasts to wait...

Scene iii: Georgi Hotel, Belgrade.

It was not until an hour before dawn that Logan and Friedrich rode hard toward the minarets and peaked gables of the richer houses of Belgrade on the horizon, having fled through the nightscape of forested valleys and empty roads. There progress was keenly observed however, reflected in the black mirror eyes of a white horse that stood amongst a copse of birch on the wayside.

With Friedrich’s warped mannerisms irking the true Englishman (offering his ‘medical’ advice etc) during their journey, he was glad to lead their horse along the heavy ruts of the army’s passage, the black trail of many feet and horses arriving at a large hotel outside the city walls.

Friedrich had laced over his head the encompassing plague mask as a soldier greeted them in the streets before the Saxon-styled house. Speaking before the sinister Tremere could cause further trouble, Logan introduced them as the Englishmen that had returned the wagon the night previous, come again to briefly entreat on the hospitality of the Austrian army.

Curious as to the doctors costume, the soldier laughed grimly that Logan’s travelling companion sounded similar in nature to the ‘vampyre’ or ‘vukodluk’ who also feared the Lord’s sun. He admitted to believing in such matters, no matter the scientific nature of the expedition. Wary now of intruding further into the mortal world, Logan excused himself to lead the horse away to be stabled.

Leaving earlier during the conversation, the doctor had ignored Logan’s hint to find Johann and the others, instead making his own way into the Hotel waiting room as he asked to speak with Dr Glaser. The soldiers and staff of the sprawling abode directed the man upstairs with queer looks, where he casually intruded upon the physician in his room.

Meanwhile, Sir L had been startled in the dark by a throaty whisper. It was Johann welcoming him after such a long wait, asking how they had managed to survive the daylight hours and find a horse to reach them in time. Weary from the events so far, the Englishman cursed that Friedrich was missing again, guessing that the macabre doctor was seeking company in the hotel. Overhearing the discussion from his own vantage, Janos warned that the Tremere’s disregard of the mission and masquerade code of the Camarilla would be judged severely by the court.

Covering as much of his kindred flesh as possible, the rugged Knight ran from the shade of the stables to the rear courtyard of the inn across the lane, smoke curling off his form as the dawn broke through the grey winter clouds. Painfully stepping out of the sunlight to hide behind a door, he continued through the halls until finding Glaser’s apartment, excusing himself into the room as the physician groomed himself over a wash basin.

Friedrich (aka ‘Alistair’ the Englishman) was halfway through discussing his skin condition with the Austrian doctor, asking that a covered wagon be provided so he could join the medical expedition to Medvega and assist in the examination of the offending ‘Vukodluk’ corpses. Glaser relents to the proposition, an agreement made redundant when Logan overtly warns ‘Alistair’ that they have to retire immediately as the sun has already risen. Feeling the agony of its penetrating rays already through the window, Alistair forgave himself for having to end the enlightened conference, imploring Herr Glaser to extend payment of the room an extra night so he and his ‘guard’ Logan could rest.

Outside, Johann had curled his misshapen body back into the supply crate, as had Janos. Their wagon, along with the rest of the baggage train was harnessed again for the day’s travel, pulled into line by the pack horses as the coterie separated for a second time...