Re: A Game of Cat and Mouse (Vezina)
"Then I am gladdened to have relieved you from the monotony of your nightly duty. By the will of Caine, you will find reason to use your talents." Vezina grinned devilishly. Let Donegal and Pallas fight over the gargoyle, and let Isleena bleat on for inaction and temperance. She would find Cainites of action and put the sorcerers to the sword.
Upon opening the wardrobe and sifting through her options, her eyes soon fell on her preferred outfit. While she was not a stickler for fashion, the study of it had been drilled passionlessly into her mind for the sake of blending in with other nobility. She could tell this was a well made piece, and a rarity for it had been made with a female figure in mind. No doubt a custom order from a thrall. She took the armor with the fox pelt and laid it on a bench beside her.
Without embarrassment, Vezina disrobed, leaving her green traveling dress to fall in a heap at her ankles. Her pale, undead flesh still bore the many scars of her mortal days. Over a period of months, Scorylo had bled her with his unkind knife, letting her blood drip into a ditch of soil that she had been forced to dig with her own hands, until her fingers had become raw red things. She had blessed the earth spirit of this new land with her own life force - a ritual that Gyulu had revealed much later on, to be a part of her Koldunic heritage. Even across the many leagues of ocean, forest, and field, the tainted spirit of her dark homeland was a part of her sire's blood, and now her own vitae as well. Had such a ritual not been completed, Gyulu had explained, then she could never have hoped to draw power from this land, and the blood would have withered to ash in her veins.
Because she had endured the torture, she had not only proven herself a worthy bride, but her blood would open the way for her Koldunic heritage to have legitimacy in the soil of this new land. Spirits would not listen to a pretender who had not paid a price, and who had no tie to the land. Her sweet agony, Gyulu had said with pride, would be a great boon once he had reawakened the connection with the spirits.
'Other lines of our Tzimisce clan believe that it is only by changing ourselves that we can transcend,' Gyulu had said. "A Koldun changes the land itself. He is one with his domain - the spirit of his land personified in undying flesh. Given an eternity of study, a Koldun might become one with the very Earth itself. Would that not be transcendence, my bride?'
The leather was supple enough to be comfortable as she slid it over her milky flesh, covering her scars that would never heal unless she subjected herself to the disease of Vicissitude. The armor was hardened in the front however, and would provide some small protection against an errant assault. She flexed her arms, making sure she had enough range to pull a bow taught. Satisfied she scooped up her dress, and more importantly, the pouches of precious earth sewn into the folds of the fabric, and brought it with her to place it within the saddlebags of her mount.
"I thank thee for the garment, Lysandra. You must avail to me the name of the mortal who makes such pieces, for I may indeed want a suit for myself one night very soon."
Together the two vampires left the estate, heading first to fetch the Sheriff. Richard was supposedly to be found on Gropeconte Lane. The vulgar name repulsed her, but not nearly so much as Richard's face would.
"How is the Sheriff normally reached on short notice, Lysandra?"
