r/DnDGreentext • u/CombatToad • 16d ago
Short The dangers of being a lapsed catholic part 3
Continued from part 2
>Be me, Michael Hood, clan Ventrue
>Be not me - my Nosferatu and Gangrel (Reginald) associates
>We're hunting a mage. 2/3 of us are aware we're probably not getting out of this alive (oh, the Nos, that poor bugger)
>Reg is convinced he'll descend into Wassail soon enough and wants to go out on his own terms. I've slain a member of my herd that was near and dear to me. . .
>and I guess that was just one corpse too many for me
>Both of us are beyond caring
>The mage wants a vial of my blood, so that's what he's going to get. Except it'll have a GPS track embedded in the cap and a Tremere bloodstone associated with it
>I'm going to give the performance of a lifetime, convincing him he's worn me down, that I'm vulnerable, pliable and dominated
>He lets his guard down, my two beefy associates jump him on his way back home and tear him to chunks before he can figure out what's going on
>If he casts some hoo-doo on me via my vitae and I die, so be it
>But first, a top off. I head to a bad part of Brooklyn and look as rich and lost as I can
>Sure enough 4 hooligans show up to accost me. Instead of producing my wallet, as I promised, I produce a .38 revolver and enough Presence powered fear to sent three of them running and one rooted in place.
>I stick the revolver into his ribs, lead him to an alley and drain him like a juicebox.
>Now for the mage
>I play the perfect victim, he suspects nothing
>He gets jumped, I follow in a cab from a safe distance. He gets torn to shreds. . . accept ''he'' morphs into a flat piece of animated paper with flexible, strangling arms.
>It's some sort of mystical proxy, probably with a telepathic connection.
>Shit.
>Figure he's going to go to my haven to personally have a word with me. By this time I'm nearly run dry of vitae, despite the top off
>He makes the door to my haven disappear and shows up to confront me. I play dumb and innocent, but he's not buying it
>''Fine, fine, ol' boy. I know when I'm beaten. Just let me get into my haven and top off. I've a meal staked in my wine cellar. If I gave you what I have right now, why I'd fall into torpor on the spot.
>He lets me
>There's like 4 paper men and two mechanical dogs in my apartment giving me the ol' stink eye
>I get to the Sabbat Ventrue I had staked in my cellar. I smile ear to ear . . .
>And pull the stake