Fifth Night. Part 1.
After beginning the night in a tone of melancholy, Alexander Kane studies the file on the Agorean's movements in the Industrial District.
As always, we'll roll for rest. 1, 8, 5. It's a weak hit. -1 Blood.
Let's also roll the scene: I assume Lina has already left for work, but perhaps left an affectionate note for Kane. We rolled a 10 - it's over the chaos rating, so it goes as planned.
Wednesday. 7h00pm. Lina Moreno's apartament. Waterfront District.
The apartment was still, cloaked in the deep quiet of night. Faint traces of the evening’s rain clung to the air, their scent mingling with the lingering warmth of incense. Alexander Kane awoke slowly, his senses sharpening in the dimness. He lay in Lina’s bed, the mismatched blankets and soft pillows surrounding him, their texture still faintly imbued with her presence. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to linger in the comfort, a luxury he rarely afforded.
But the space beside him was empty. She was gone.
He sat up, the room dimly illuminated by the amber glow of a bedside lamp she must have left on for him. The soft light cast long shadows across the walls, over the photographs and scattered trinkets that made up her world. His gaze fell on the small wooden nightstand, where a folded note rested neatly atop a set of keys. He reached for it, unfolding the paper with fingers that had once wielded swords with ease but now trembled slightly at the tenderness of the gesture.
"Kane—
I had to step out for a while. Take your time. You’re welcome here, always. The keys are for you—lock up when you’re ready.
—L"
For a moment, he sat still, the note held loosely in his hand. The words were simple, practical, but they carried an intimacy that felt heavier than he could have anticipated. His thumb brushed the edge of the paper, a faint crease forming beneath the pressure, and then he set it back down.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Kane stood and pulled on his coat. The room felt colder now, though the air was no different than it had been moments before. His steps were soft as he left the bedroom, moving into the living room like a shadow among her belongings. The space was unchanged from the night before—warm, intimate, unmistakably hers. Yet, in her absence, it felt distant, like the echoes of a life he could observe but never inhabit.
His gaze settled on the photographs clustered on the walls. Lina onstage at the Opium, her face illuminated by the spotlight, her voice frozen in mid-note. Another showed her seated at a grand piano, her fingers poised on the keys, her expression serene but focused. And then there were the candid shots—her laughing with friends, her arms flung wide in exuberance, her face alight with joy. Kane’s fingers brushed the edge of one frame, but he stopped short of lifting it. The lives captured here were hers, full of color and music and fleeting moments of connection. He was a trespasser among these fragments, a relic of a darker existence that didn’t belong.
He moved to the small bookshelf, its shelves cluttered with books, journals, and notebooks. One of the journals sat open, its pages filled with handwritten lyrics and scattered thoughts. Kane scanned the words, noting the fierce passion and quiet vulnerability in her lines. The rawness of her expression was both familiar and alien to him, a reminder of the humanity he’d lost long ago.
As he stood there, a cold truth pressed against him like a blade to the throat. The affection Lina showed him, the trust implied in the keys and the note, wasn’t entirely real. It was a construct, an illusion born of the blood link he’d created between them. She cared for him, yes, but that care was twisted by the bond, her feelings bent to serve a connection she hadn’t chosen.
And yet, for all its falseness, the illusion still warmed him. It was a fragile, fleeting thing, like the light of the lamp that softened the room’s edges. He knew it couldn’t last, but for now, it tethered him to something beyond the cold and the hunger. It was dangerous to rely on it, to believe in it, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it go.
His steps carried him to the window, where the blackout curtains hung heavy and still. He didn’t draw them back. Outside, the city’s night carried on, its pulse distant but unrelenting. He stood there for a long moment, his fingers grazing the edge of the curtain as though he might pull it aside, but he didn’t. The world out there was chaos and blood and duty. This place, this quiet corner of Lina’s life, was a sanctuary he would never truly own.
Kane turned away from the window, his mind already shifting to the tasks ahead. The keys jingled faintly as he slipped them into his coat pocket, the sound a small reminder of the strange connection they represented. As he reached the door, he paused, his gaze lingering on the room one last time.
This life was hers, filled with music and light and fleeting moments of joy. It was a life he could only ever touch at its edges, a life that would always remain just out of reach. And yet, it was a life he would protect—not for her sake, but because it anchored him to the humanity he fought so desperately to keep.
Before stepping out into the night, Kane paused at the small desk near the bookshelf, his fingers brushing over the edge of an open notebook. The blank page stared back at him, inviting, and with deliberate care, he picked up a pen and began to write in the precise, flowing strokes of someone who had spent centuries honing his craft.
"Morning song echoes,
Chords of life and fleeting light.
Your warmth tames the dark."
He set the pen down and tore the page free with a soft whisper of paper, folding it neatly and leaving it on the coffee table. A small gesture, a fragment of himself left behind in her world, a thank-you she might never fully understand. Without another glance, he turned and slipped out the door, the weight of the haiku a quiet tether between them as he vanished into the city’s shadows.
After this melancholic beginning, Kane is ready - he has his sheated katana, wrapped in black fabric, on one hand - and the black folder containing the information about his new mission at the Industrial District at the other. A thought crossed his mind - paying a visit do the hunters warehouse before he left,but he pushed it aside: Hierophant Seraphina would not like that... And he paused, slightly angry at himself for wanting to do what she would approve - it was the blood link speaking, the blood link that was forced unto him as a proof of his lealty. Kane phone started ringing - it was Donovan.
Question: does Donovan already knows Kane has been recruited? Likely. 24. Yes.
"Who's docile now, Kane?" - the Crow teased, and Alexander had to hold down a laugh. "I'll be right there and we can talk about this in person - supposed you're still at your fancy dog house?" - and as night is dark, Crow was in his rich nest, the Blue Grove Hotel.Let's test the scene. Kane needs a place to sit and review the files Seraphina gave him, and it felt wrong to do so in Lina's apartment. The Blue Grove is a good place to do so. The plan is to chat a bit with Donovan and get to work. How does the scene hold up? 7. Over the chaos score, so we're fine.
Wednesday. 08h30pm. Blue Grove Hotel. Downtown District.
The Blue Grove Hotel loomed like a beacon of opulence in Santa Maria’s bustling Downtown District. Its polished stone and glass facade reflected the glow of the city’s lights, while the soft hum of muted conversation and distant jazz filled the cool, perfumed air inside. Alexander Kane moved purposefully across the marble floors, his dark coat trailing behind him and his sheathed katana, wrapped in black fabric, resting in his grip. Beside it, the black folder felt heavier than it should, laden with the weight of his new obligations.
At the reception desk, Donovan “Crow” Mercer leaned with casual irreverence, his wolfish grin as sharp as his untamed appearance. The contrast between his feral energy and the hotel’s polished elegance was striking. As Kane approached, Donovan greeted him with mockery.
“Well, look at you,” Donovan said, his grin widening. “The Hierophant’s newest golden boy. How’s it feel to have a desk job?”
Kane smirked faintly. “Still freer than you, Crow. At least I don’t live in a gilded kennel.”
Donovan laughed, a sound as sharp as it was genuine. “Touché. But I’ll remind you—this kennel comes with perks.” He gestured toward the elevator. “Come on, I’ve got a spot for you to brood in.”
The suite was a blend of luxury and chaos, much like Donovan himself. Kane placed the folder on a sleek desk near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Donovan watched from the couch, his sharp eyes softened by something close to concern.
“You’re really going all in with this, huh?” Donovan said, his tone quieter.
“I don’t have much of a choice,” Kane replied, turning to meet his gaze. He reached for the duffel bag he had left with Donovan the night before. “Keep this. I trust you with it.”
Donovan took the bag, his grin returning, though it lacked its usual edge. “Don’t let them pull you in too deep, Kane.”
Kane nodded faintly and turned back to the desk, opening the folder with deliberate care. The room grew quiet, the glow of the city stretching into the night behind him as he began to pore over the documents, the weight of his new role settling in once more.
Now... let's work. Kane's current job is to create Havoc among the Agoreans who have established a base in the industrial district. It's not something the Order would probably be interested in, and it's not even really his line of work - which makes him think that it's simply a way for Seraphina to test him.
Let's start with a brief description of what exactly is going on. Roll: 76, 78. Relinquish Project. Ok, it's a territorial dispute - the Agoran movement wants to create an "indepent district" for all the vampire misfits, and they think that the Industrial District belongs to them now. Evelyn, Kane's sire, has her haven there - she probably already knows, and certainly isnt happy.
So... what exactly are the Agoreans doing, besides being annoying and loud? 64, 3. Observe agreement. Ok, they made some sort of deal - a dangerous deal for the vampires loyal to the Olympus. Which deal could it be?
Question: have they allied themselves with a pack of lycans? Very likely, because I like that idea. 40. Yes, that's exactly what they did.
Ok. I'll need at least six names: three of the main vampires of the Agorean movement, and three of the main lycans of this pack they have allied themselves with.
Vampires are Cassius Drake, Vera Luthien and Darius Vex; lycans are Kael Ironfang, Lila Ashenwood, Orin Blacktooth.
I'll generate them with UNE later, but for now let's think.
How the files describe the relationship between Agoreans and Lycans? 99, 41. Usurp hope. The intel on the files describes how the Agoreans have, somehow, convinced that particular pack of lycans that their governance would be best for the lycans and their families. Lycans, Alexander just found out, are extremely family and kin oriented. The agoreans probably promised them that their family would be untouchable by the kindred if the industrial district becomes Agorean-territory.Great. That's plenty to start.
*Alexander Kane set his coat on the back of the chair and rested his sheathed katana carefully against the side of the sleek desk. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sprawling lights of Santa Maria stretched endlessly into the horizon, a kaleidoscope of humanity and shadows. The glass pane reflected his sharp, focused features as he opened the black folder, its contents whispering promises of danger.
Santa Maria’s Industrial District was a world apart from the glimmering Downtown. Smog and grime clung to its bones, and the recent territorial dispute there churned with restless energy. The Agorean Movement had staked a claim, seeking to carve out an independent district where vampire misfits could rule free. But this was more than rebellion—it was a gambit. A deal had been struck between the Agoreans and a pack of lycans. A gamble Kane’s instincts told him was a powder keg waiting for a spark.
He leaned back for a moment, digesting the implications. The Agoreans, led by Cassius Drake, Vera Luthien, and Darius Vex, were not known for cautious alliances. This pact with Kael Ironfang, Lila Ashenwood, and Orin Blacktooth’s lycan pack was precarious, blending supernatural ferocity with revolutionary fervor. Together, they sought to claim the Industrial District, promising the lycans sanctuary in exchange for their muscle.
Kane’s jaw tightened. Evelyn, his progenitor, had her haven in that very district—a haven now threatened by this coalition. She wouldn’t stand for it, and neither would the Olympus. But it wasn’t Evelyn or Olympus pulling Kane into this. No, this was Seraphina’s test, her shadowed hand prodding him deeper into treacherous waters.
The folder held more than just intelligence; it carried decisions that could shape the balance of power in Santa Maria. If the Agorean dream came true, it might inspire other districts to follow. And if Kane didn’t act? The Industrial District would become a battlefield of claws, fangs, and broken dreams.
Kane ran a hand through his dark hair and exhaled. The room was quiet save for the hum of the city. He wasn’t sure whether to feel like a strategist or a pawn. Either way, the pieces were in motion, and the first move was his to make.