Fourth night. Part 2.
Lina "Dusk" Moreno goes down to the basement and Alexander Kane has some explaining to do. How does this end?
Night begins. Tuesday. 7h30pm. Basement of the Opium Nightclub. Waterfront District.
Now we do have a few problems to figure out here. First, I'll roll my rest. 4, 5, 3. It's a strong hit. +1 health and +2 focus. Good.
The second problem is that there are blood and bodies all over. I'll consider that Lina is the one that comes down the basement and finds the bodies, and.. well, we'll go from there. Let's ask chat gpt to set the scene.
The basement of the Opium Nightclub was a cavern of shadows, its cold stone walls whispering of secrets and sins. The air was thick with the mingling scents of damp concrete, stale liquor, and, most overpowering, the coppery tang of blood. A single flickering bulb swayed gently overhead, casting uneven light that pooled on the floor in faint, quivering circles.
The stillness was broken by the soft creak of a door above, followed by the faint echo of footsteps descending the staircase. Lina Moreno, known to the patrons of the Opium as "Dusk," stepped cautiously into the basement. Her heels, though muted on the steps, clicked just enough to betray her presence. She carried herself with the graceful tension of a performer who lived for the stage but tread carefully when the spotlight dimmed.
She paused near the base of the stairs, her silhouette catching the wavering light. The air down here always felt heavier, but tonight, it was suffocating. Her sharp brown eyes scanned the room, catching on the telltale streaks of crimson smeared across the floor. She swallowed hard, her throat tightening against the sight of two bodies sprawled amid a jumble of broken crates and scattered debris.
“What the hell happened down here?” Lina whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the dying light.
Her gaze fixed on one of the bodies, and her breath caught. A hunter, his crossbow discarded nearby, his face pale and frozen in an expression of shock. The other form was harder to identify, its features obscured by the shadows and the angle of its collapse. Lina took a hesitant step forward, the edge of her heel catching a shard of broken glass that skittered across the floor.
Her stomach churned. She knew the rumors that swirled around the Opium, whispered among the staff and the regulars. The club had always been a place of masks and double lives, but this—this was different. Bloodshed had crossed the line from metaphor to reality.
The faintest shift of movement drew her attention to the far corner of the room. Her breath hitched as her eyes adjusted, settling on the figure standing there, half-hidden in the shadows. Alexander Kane. His pale, angular face was streaked with blood, his sharp eyes glinting like a predator in the dark.
Now that is going to be a problem. If things go south, Kane will have to forcibly feed her some of his blood to create a blood link and protect the façade.
I'll activate Sixth Sense, so Kane can better understand her emotions and motives and use it to talk that situation out. Rolling vs 7. 2, 6, 8. It's a strong hit.
Then, Kane will, first of all, try to stop her from deciding to go running for police. He'll talk about how these guys were the ones that came looking from him last night, and how they ambushed him in the basement during the day. He'll say they were dangerous, but the problem has been delt with, and that she needs to trust him. It's a very, very fragile argument, but let's try. Rolling to compel with +1 (6). 4, 9, 8. It's a weak hit. She doesn't run screaming, but she demands answers.
Kane - who is covered in blood, with a still open wound in his chest - doesn't see any other way forward except telling her the truth. He doesn't necessarily want to blood link her, but he's open to it if necessary. He's goiing to tell her that he is a vampire and that these were hunters, but he will try to frame it a way that tempts her - protection, power, immortality. He'll try to weave his existence as a vampire into her already existing world view.
Two rolls: Secure an Advantage (7). 7, 10, 2. It's a weak hit. I'll take +2 focus.
Now, rolling to compel with heart (5). 4, 2, 2. Amazingly, it's a strong hit. We're safe. Lina believes in us and won't make a scene. She accepts keeping our secret, and we did not even had to blood link her.
Now, we'll have to roll the "Test your Relationship", since Lina is a connection and this sure is testing it. Rolling vs 5. It's a weak hit - we'll progress the relationship, but she has demands.
What are the demands? 87, 50. Succeed investment.
Well, we spoke too soon about the blood-link: Lina wants power too. I teased her with power and immortality, and it maybe worked too well. She asks me to turn her, but Kane refuses and manages to convince her that drinking his blood will give her power and slowly prepare for a definite transformation at some point. She accepts, and he rips a small hole in his wrist, feeding her and effectively creating a level one blood-link (pg 61-62 in the Elegy book).
We'll have to spend 3 xp points to buy the "Mannequinn" asset - which sucks, because I'd like to buy the Lair one right now, but that's life.
After the linking is done, Kane will tell her to stop people from acessing the basement and promises her to send someone to clean that mess as soon as possible.
Before leaving, I'll roll to heal myself. Rolling vs 5. 9, 3, 7. Weak hit. Spent two blood, but fully healed.
The basement was a tableau of carnage. Blood pooled across the cracked concrete floor, smearing the cold stone with deep, wet streaks that glistened under the sputtering lightbulb overhead. Lina Moreno stood at the foot of the stairs, her silhouette tense and angular in the dim light. Her gaze darted between the lifeless bodies and Alexander Kane, who stood like a shadow given form, his coat heavy with blood and his face pale and sharp against the darkness.
“What in God’s name is this?” Lina’s voice trembled with fury and disbelief. Her arms crossed tightly, as if holding herself together in the face of the scene before her. “You—what are you?”
Kane stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. The air between them felt charged, like a storm building just out of reach. “You want the truth?” he asked, his voice low, calm, and weighted with something primal. “I’m a vampire.”
The word hung in the air, thick and oppressive. Lina’s sharp features froze, her lips parting slightly as if to laugh, but the sound never came. Her breaths were shallow, quick, and uneven.
“I don’t have time to convince you,” Kane continued. His voice carried no defensiveness, only an eerie certainty. “What you see here? This is what happens when hunters come for me. It’s done now. But you’re in it, Lina. You can’t pretend you’re not.”
Her eyes flicked to the blood pooling at her feet, to the hunter’s shattered crossbow lying nearby, and finally back to him. “A vampire?” she repeated, almost to herself, the disbelief in her tone waning under the weight of what she was seeing. She swallowed hard, fear battling curiosity in her expression. “And now what? You expect me to just… look the other way?”
Kane’s piercing gaze locked onto hers. He let his power stir, his sixth sense pressing against the edges of her thoughts. He could feel the roiling storm inside her—fear, yes, but also something darker, something deeper. She didn’t want to run. She wanted more.
“You’re not going to run,” Kane said, stepping closer, his voice as soft and cold as the shadows around them. “You’re smarter than that.”
“Damn right I’m not running,” Lina snapped, but her tone betrayed the shiver running through her. “You’re a vampire. If I’m not running, I want to know what that means for me.”
Kane tilted his head, reading her, feeling the hunger in her words. The air between them seemed to thicken, her ambition cutting through the fading fear. He could taste it in the way she looked at him now—not with horror, but with something else entirely.
“Give me what you have,” she said, her voice low but steady. “The power. The strength. You said I’m in it now? Fine. Then I want in.”
Kane paused, his expression unreadable. The room seemed to contract, the flickering light above casting long shadows across her face. Her demand had stripped the conversation bare. There was no fear left, only hunger—a hunger that matched his own in its intensity.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Kane said softly, though his tone lacked protest. His voice was an echo in the room, dark and reverberating.
“I know enough,” Lina countered, stepping closer. Her breath was shallow, her gaze locked on his with a daring that bordered on recklessness. “You said I’m in it. You said it’s done. Then give me the power to survive it. I’m not afraid of you, Kane.”
---
Kane exhaled through his nose, a faint, humorless smile curving his lips. He rolled up his sleeve, his pale skin gleaming faintly in the uneven light. Without a word, he raised his wrist to his mouth, his fangs piercing his own flesh. Blood welled up, dark and rich, sliding over his skin. He extended his arm toward her, his expression unreadable.
Lina hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward. Her fingers closed around his wrist, warm against his cold skin. She raised it to her lips, her breath hitching as the blood touched her tongue. The taste was overwhelming—sweet, metallic, alive. She drank, and the moment it hit her system, her entire body shuddered.
The basement seemed to ripple and shift, the dim light sharpening into vivid clarity. The air was colder, yet it seemed to hum with energy. Every sound—the faint creak of wood, the dripping of blood—resonated in her ears like music. And Kane… Kane was no longer just a man before her. He was a force, his presence suffusing her mind and body. She could feel him, a thread pulling her toward him, binding them together in a way she couldn’t yet comprehend.
When she finally pulled back, her lips stained red, her breath came in shallow gasps. She stared at him, wide-eyed, as if seeing him for the first time. “What… what was that?”
“You wanted power,” Kane said, pulling his sleeve down. “Now you have it.”
Lina didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze lingered on him, the sharpness of her expression tempered by awe. She nodded slowly, as if confirming something to herself, and stepped back. Her hands trembled, but her voice was steady. “No one comes down here. I’ll take care of it.”
Kane’s gaze didn’t waver. “See to it. I'll send someone to clean this mess.”
She turned and ascended the stairs, her steps light but deliberate. Kane watched her disappear into the shadows above, his thoughts clouded by the weight of what had just transpired. The bond between them was new, fragile, and already laden with consequence.
He ran his tongue over his teeth, tasting the remnants of blood still clinging to his lips. The night stretched before him, full of questions, but for now, there was only the quiet hum of power—shared and binding.
As Lina’s footsteps faded up the stairs, the basement grew silent again, save for the faint hum of the nightclub above. Kane stood amidst the blood and chaos, the tang of it still sharp in the air, the faint pull of the bond between them lingering like a thread in his mind. Slowly, he drew his worn leather journal from his coat and flipped to a blank page. The memory of her lips on his wrist, her trembling hunger for power, played over in his thoughts. He pressed pencil to paper, writing with deliberate care:
Bound in shadows shared,
Blood threads the hungry to fate.
Power tastes like fire.
Kane snapped the journal shut and slid it back into his pocket, his gaze lingering on the bloodstained floor. The night stretched long ahead, its weight heavy with consequence.