First Night.

Starting in media res, Alexander Kane is tasked with finding Elijah Ward, a rogue fledgling who was been whispering dangerous things.

The formating and how the fiction interacts with the rolls have changed a bit as I played. It settles in a constant format at the Third Night. That being said, enjoy.

Inciting Incident: A Rogue Whisper
Evelyn March approaches Alexander in her usual cryptic manner, her piercing gray eyes scanning him with quiet intensity. She tasks him with investigating a fledgling vampire who has gone rogue, whispering dangerous ideas about the Epitaph Order in the streets of Santa Maria.

Objective:
Find the rogue, assess the truth behind their claims, and determine whether they pose a genuine threat to the balance Evelyn so carefully maintains—or if they might be an asset worth protecting.

---

Saturday. 3:00am. Downtown.
The gym sits nestled between two aging buildings on a rain-soaked street, its entrance marked by a flickering neon sign. The darkened sky casts a muted glow over the wet pavement, each raindrop amplifying the city’s melancholic hum. Dim lamplight reflects in scattered puddles, their uneven surfaces creating fragmented glimpses of the world above.

Inside, the air smells faintly of damp metal and worn leather. The sound of rain pattering against the windows mixes with the rhythmic hum of an old ventilation system. Weights clank in the shadows, though no one is visibly lifting them, and faint scuff marks line the wooden floor from long-forgotten sparring sessions.

From somewhere deep in the recesses of the building, the soft echo of a child’s laughter flits through the air—mysterious and haunting. It’s faint enough to feel like an auditory trick, yet persistent enough to make the space feel alive in its desolation.

---

Question: do I know the name of the rogue?
A: Likely, since Evelyn knew it was a fledgling vampire. Roll 1d100: 61. Yes, I know.

Elijah "Eli" Ward is a wiry, sharp-featured fledgling vampire barely out of his mortal twenties, with tousled dark hair that perpetually clings to his forehead like a shadow. His hollowed cheeks and restless, darting eyes speak of a vampire who’s been on the run, surviving on scraps and stolen moments of respite. Clad in a mismatched ensemble of a battered hoodie and faded jeans, Eli carries the aura of someone who’s seen too much too soon. His voice, when he speaks, is quick and clipped, carrying the weight of desperation mixed with defiance—a fledgling toeing the line between revelation and ruin. Despite his apparent fragility, there’s a spark of intelligence and cunning behind his disheveled facade, hinting at why he’s drawn the attention of so many.

Kane walks silently in the dark gym, like a ghost. He saw Elijah entering the building and followed him a few momments ago, and now... Now it's a matter of finding him.

I'll activate Sixth Sense. Rolling 2d10 vs 7. 1, 5. Strong hit.
Question: is Elijah within earshot? Likely. Roll 1d100. Yes.

"Elijah." - Alexander says. "I know you're here. I don't want to kill you. That's not my mission. We just gotta talk. You've been saying some things that are getting some people nervous. Big people. Bigger than we." - Kane continues speaking, slowly moving closer towards the place my sixth sense, Cassandra's gift, told Kane he is hiding.

Kane does not want to kill him, but he's holding the sheath of his sword, his thumb ready at the guard.

"Come out, Elijah" - I try again. "Give yourself a chance at least." - I keep bargaining, moving closer. Soon, he'll have to make his choice...

Roll vs Glamour (6)+1(Sixth Sense bonus). 10, 8. Miss.
-1 focus. You are put in disadvantage.

Elijah Ward may be a fool, but he is a quick fool. Just as Kane is getting closer to the closet where the fledgling is hiding, Elijah kicks the door open violently, ripping it off the hinges and throwing it against Kane, who gets taken by surprise, dodges the door, but misses the chance of grabbing the fleeing rogue, who's running toward the street.

Kane has just one or two seconds before the kid gets to the street - and when he does, it's gonna be hell trying to find him again. He closes his eyes for a micro-second, moving the blood to his muscles...

Activating power - Agility. Roll vs dex (6). 7, 1. Weak hit.
-3 Blood. +3 to the next Agility roll.

Kane feels the supernatural blood pumping his muscles, and then he explodes - lightning fast, he jumps toward the direction Elijah is running, the sword shining through the air, aiming at the rogueling's legs... Kane aims to maim, not to kill - not yet, at least.

Roll Battle vs 9. 5, 4. Strong hit.
"On a strong hit, you achieve your objective unconditionally.
Mark progress on the Elegy.

Kane lands, sliding through the floor. The movement of cleaning his katana on his dark clothes is almost automatic, part of one single gesture as he sheathes it again... The terrible screams of Elijah, laying on the floor, legless, squirming and screaming, seem to go unnoticed by his assailant.

Kane moves closer and grabs Elijah by his shirt: "God damn it, Elijah. You are a vampire. Shut the pain down and stop screaming. Keep at it like that, and you know who's gonna come? The cops. Who do you fucking think owns the cops, mate?" - and Kane sees a glimpse of understanding in his eyes. "Exactly. The people you've been bad-mouthing around town."

And then... silence. Kane let's him go. The only sound is the blood, but it will stop soon. "It's gonna heal. It's gonna take a long time, and a lot of blood, but you'll walk again." - says Kane, sitting down on the floor somewhere between Elijah and the door, just to be safe.

"Tell me what you've been speaking around about the Epitaph Order. Explain it to me like I haven't heard it before, ok? Please. So we can both go home."

Elijah spits out a laugh, bitter and pained. “Go home? What home?” His voice is raw, laced with defiance but weakened by desperation. “You think I’m doing this for fun? Whispering ‘dangerous ideas,’ stirring the pot—what the hell do you think I’m gonna get out of it?”

His hands shake as he presses against the ground, trying to push himself into a sitting position. Blood pools beneath him, but the wounds are already sluggishly clotting. “The Epitaph Order... They’re not what you think. Everyone sees their pretty words—‘balance,’ ‘peace.’” He scoffs, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “But no one asks what the cost is.”

Elijah’s gaze darts to Alexander’s hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword, then back to his face, studying him. “They don’t want peace. They want control. Absolute, from the shadows. They manipulate us, keep us fighting each other so we never see the strings they’re pulling. I saw their enforcers take someone. A vampire, like us, questioning their dogma. They dragged him into one of their sanctuaries. You think he came out? No, Kane. He didn’t.”

The fledgling’s eyes narrow, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “That’s why they sent you after me. They can’t let anyone speak out, even a fledgling. I’m not the only one who’s seen it. There are others who know, but they’re too scared to talk. And you—” He coughs, blood flecking his lips. “You’re just another one of their tools. Tell me, Kane, how much of this is you, and how much is them pulling your strings?”

He leans back against the wall, exhaustion overtaking his panic. “Go ahead. Take me in. Or kill me. But don’t pretend you’re the one in charge.” Elijah’s voice trails off into a bitter chuckle, his eyes flickering between defiance and resignation.*

Kane nods silently, thinking. What Elijah is saying is probably true, yes - but true or false is not the question his orders command him to ask. He is to determine wether Elijah is worth protecting, or if he'll be a pain in Evelyn's.. behind, for lack of a better word.

The information... the information she'd like. Of course she would. But Elijah? He's erratic, dangerous, unpredictable. She would not want him left alive. Judgement has been passed - and it is not in Elijah's favor. Kane is not truly happy about it. Murder brings him no joy. But life - even unlife - is fleeting, and night after night, fewer and fewer fledlings manage to keep their heads on their necks. It's the price of impertinence, Kane thinks. Or, as Evelyn would say... "You pay for stupidity in blood".

Alexander Kane stands up and walks closer to Elijah. "I am truly sorry, friend. You are right in everything you said. But now... now I do hope you go home. Are you a religious man? You would like to say any prayers?" - Kane asks.

Elijah's gaze snaps to Kane as he steps closer, the fledgling’s expression tightening. For a moment, fear flashes in his eyes—raw, unfiltered, and primal. The faint trace of defiance that had carried him through the encounter falters, crumbling under the weight of inevitability.

He swallows hard, his voice trembling but steady enough to carry his words. “Religious? No... not really. Prayers don’t do much when you’ve already been damned, do they?” A weak, bitter laugh escapes his lips, but it carries no real mirth.

Elijah tilts his head back against the wall, his gaze drifting to the ceiling, as if searching for answers in the peeling paint and rusted beams. “But if you’re asking... I guess I’d like someone to remember me. Even if it’s just for a second, after I’m gone. Just... don’t let me disappear, Kane. That’s all I’ll ask.”

His hands fall limp to his sides, blood still seeping sluggishly from his wounds. “Make it quick. You seem like the type who knows how.” The last words are quiet, resigned, as if Elijah has already let go of whatever faint thread of hope he had been clinging to.

The gym falls silent except for the rhythmic patter of rain against the windows and the faint, haunting echo of a child’s laughter that seems to mock the solemnity of the moment.

"I will, friend. Think of something beautiful that you miss. The sunrise, perhaps. Closer your eyes." - and, then, with a swift movement, the sword was already going back into it's sheathe - and Elijah was going home, as his head, separated from his body, slowly fell forward, landing on his lap.

Mark progress on the Elegy.
Question: Is Elijah carrying anything useful? In his pockets, inside his shoes.. 50/50. Roll 1d100, 15. Nothing useful.

After a brief momment spent checking Elijah's pocket for a phone, recorder, letters, anything at all that could be useful, Kane finds himself empty handed. It did felt like a waste of his time, that mission - but not really, though: there was a certain beauty in being his mistress's sword. He had sworn fealty to her, after all, and honor mattered.

Question: does something happens between Kane leaving the Gym and reaching Evelyn's haven? 50/50. Roll 1d100, 49. No.

Alexander Kane checked himself before leaving the Gym and made sure there was no visible blood on his clothes. He put on the hood - he didn't want to have to worry about looking human, having spent so much blood on that speed-surge that removed Elijah's legs - and got a cab to his mistress haven. After about thirty minutes, he was there.

Saturday. 4am. Evelyn March’s haven. The Industrial District.

"It's done, Mother." - said Alexander, after a brief reverence. "Elijah Ward is no more. His body is at a gym in Downtown, I'll write down the adress so you can send cleaners. His claim was that the Epitaph Order does not actually works for peace, but for control, and that they are capturing and murdering dissidents... Which should surprise no one, if you asked me, but you didn't." - and then he stops, clears his throat, mutters a "Sorry, Mother" and proceeds. "His points had validity and he probably had valuable information, but he was erratic, scared and certainly would draw too much attention. So, as requested, the problem is solved."

Advance the Elegy again.

Evelyn observes Alexander with an inscrutable expression, her voice low but sharp.
“A predictable outcome,” she begins, her words measured. “Elijah’s whispers were nothing more than ripples in the shadows, and you did well to extinguish them before they grew. Yet, even shadows have meaning, Alexander. You must learn to see beyond them.”

She leans forward slightly, her piercing gaze meeting his. “Tell me—did his words cast doubt within you, or are you as steady as you claim to be?”

"There is no doubt that wasn't there before, Mother." - Kane answers. "But I could investigate. We are Cassandra's blood - delving in the shadows is in our nature, and you long have known my interest in the Epitaphs, Mother. If it pleases you, I would sing you this new Elegy tonight."

Evelyn’s faint smile remains, but her eyes narrow slightly, scrutinizing Alexander. Her tone is calm but carries an undercurrent of calculation.
“So, you would weave an Elegy for me tonight—one tied to the shadows Elijah sought to escape. Intriguing.”

She turns away, her gaze drifting to the window where faint traces of rain streak the glass. “If this is the path you wish to take, Alexander, know that the Epitaph Order is a labyrinth, and even your steps will be watched.”

After a brief silence, she turns back to face him. “Sing your Elegy, then. Let it bind you to the task, and may it guide you through the darkness you now seek to illuminate.”

Her voice softens, though her piercing gaze does not. “But remember, Alexander—every Elegy has its cost. Be sure you are prepared to pay it.”

So... A few things now. First, concluding the Elegy about finding the rogue. I'll make the "Fulfill your Elegy" move, rolling vs the 8. Roll 2d10. 7, 1. Sucess. Marked 2 experience.
Second, mark progress in the connection with my mentor.
Third, sing a new Elegy in front of Evelyn, promising to investigate further Elijah's claims about the Order of the Epitaph.

Alexander Kane closes his eyes for a brief momment, before writing down in a small leatherbound book a brief Haiku:

Beneath veiled arches,
Echoes sing of chains and lies—
I will unmask truth.

He bites the tip of his thumb, and signs underneath it with blood. The elegy is sung.

"Investigate further Elijah's claims about the Order of the Epitaph" will be a formidable quest. Now I roll vs Heart+1 (6). 7, 5. Weak hit. I begin my quest with more questions than answers.

Having marked with blood his promise, Kane leaves his progenitor the address of the gym, and then asks if, by any chance, she had any food and if he could crash there - just that night.

I'll assume that Evelyn would allow her progeny to sleep there during the day, but I'm not sure if she'd have a blood doll around. I'll ask the oracle as a 50/50 question.. 6. The answer is no. Alexander has a place to sleep, but he is very, very hungry.

I'll try to solve this by asking the oracle a few things. If the game started at around 3am and everything went smooth so far, it's probably around 4, 4h30 now. If Kane is lucky, he can find something to eat close to Evelyn's haven.
I'll roll 1d100 to determine where her haven is. 76. It's in the Industrial district. I've checked the book... and there are two clubs in the area. Kane is gonna hate this - I can't see him enjoying clubs or getting second-hand drunk, but the Hunger speaks louder.
I'll solve this with two quick rolls: one vs intellect, for Sixth Sense to help him find an appropriate victim, and then vs glamour, because Kane will try to seduce someone in the club.
Roll vs Sixth Sense (7): 8, 9. It's a miss. The power activates, but it costs 1 blood and another cost. Since Kane hates the clubs, I'll take a hit to Spirit.
Now, for the hunting, roll vs glamour +1 (7). 1, 8. It's a weak hit. I can either kill the victim, get 4 blood, fill my belly and take a big hit to my spirit... Or I can exert control, gaing 2 blood, leave the victim alive and lose 1 focus.
Considering Kane personality, I'll consider he fought extremely hard against the hunger, but left the poor woman alive - if a little confused - at the club, before he safely returned home, still hungry, but less so. -1 focus, +2 blood it is.
I'll roll for a descriptor and a theme and ask ChatGPT to describe the hunting scene in three paragraphs, before ending the night: Evasive Immortality.

Saturday. 4:30am. Sound Factory. Industrial District.

The club's pounding music throbbed in Alexander Kane’s ears, a cacophony of bass and flashing lights that grated against his disciplined soul. Bodies writhed on the dance floor, the crowd a blur of sweat and desperation, but his sharpened senses pierced through the chaos. Despite his disdain for this place, the Hunger drove him forward, and he prowled the edges of the crowd like a shadow. His gaze fell on a woman near the bar, her weary expression betraying a search for connection amidst the noise—a perfect target.

Kane approached her with practiced subtlety, his intense eyes meeting hers briefly before looking away, drawing her curiosity. His movements were measured, deliberate, his presence magnetic yet understated. When he finally spoke, his voice cut through the haze of music like a blade, low and compelling. They exchanged only a few words, enough for her to lean closer, entranced by the quiet confidence radiating from him. She wouldn’t remember later why she felt safe with him, why she left the club’s suffocating light to step into the cool night air by his side.

In the shadow of the alley, Kane struck with precision, his fangs piercing her skin as her soft gasp turned into a shiver. The taste of her blood ignited his senses, rich and intoxicating, but he forced himself to stop before the Hunger overwhelmed him. He pulled away, steadying her as she blinked in confusion, her mind clouded by the subtle pull of his Glamour. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, his tone firm but reassuring. She staggered back toward the club, none the wiser to the encounter, as Kane melted into the darkness, his thirst dulled but far from satisfied.