Henry raises an eyebrow at this. "That seems like a rather large coincidence. Part of me wonders if the mage knew of our objective and arranged for the attack on this train, knowing the pressure it would place us under.It would then be a simple affair to meet with us and offer to fix the issue, in exchange for our help with his own troubles.Not something we can do much about and unlikely, but something to keep in mind.
"That theory aside, I have no further questions."
Master Beschi shrugs, "It is conceivable, but unlikely. It is dangerous for one of their kind to interact with us directly, they are after all, still Mortals.
I do not believe he could have known about our meeting though as even I was only made aware of who your contact would be and where she would be at the beginning of this evening.
Yes, rest, tomorrow will be a busy one".
"It is, if memory serves, one of the first and most prestigious hotels in Istanbul." Badger removes his spectacles and polishes the lenses. "It does seem as though one would prefer a less conspicuous place for clandestine meetings, but there are those who refuse to be parted from their luxuries. Also, more public places can offer their own advantages. Alas, as you said, there is little we can do other than to remain wary."
He puts his spectacles in his pocket. "Well... until this evening, then, Gentlemen. Madame."
The Year of Our Lord Sunday January 3, 1911 – The Ottoman Empire - The Orient Express
The day passes uneventfully for the coterie. As night falls, Master Beschi is still in his own room, when suddenly the door to the common cabin opens. A woman of exceptional beauty, unsurpassed by any Mortal enters the car. Her figure is neither waifishy thin or incredibly buxom. Instead she has the body and face that sculptors and artists have tried to immortalise time and again. Her hair color blonde.
This is Victoria Ash or Jasmine de Lacy, you recognize her from Badger's description.
A pained look on her face shows that she is attempting to resist her actions with all of her might, but for naught for she is here. Small beads of bloodsweat break out upon her head. Then she altogether stops and faces you all grinning sheepishly, "Apologies for my intrusion, I was just looking for a bathroom. I must be in the wrong car..." She begins to back away out the door, looking away from Badger quite intentionally.
Marcus begins to move toward the exit, acting as if he is simply leaving, but in actuality, attempting to block her exit. "Excuse me, madam."
"No trouble, childe," Badger says, still in his "Typical Tremere" persona. "Though is that blood on your brow? Have you been accosted? Perhaps you should stay a moment."
The Year of Our Lord Sunday January 3, 1911 – The Ottoman Empire - The Orient Express
Wits + Empathy
Intelligence + Occult
Wenzel gets up and leans heavily on his walking stick.
Marcus slides into the doorway casually as she tries to step out, "Sir, I do not appreciate your hands on me, at least not until we know each other better".
She doesn't turn when Badger speaks but remains staring into Marcus' chest, "That must just be smeared lipstick Sir. I have already disturbed your little party enough and this is certainly no place for a Lady without my chaperone.
I'd hate to have to call the conductor, wouldn't you?"
"Miss," says Jim rather humbly, "Please forgive the unfortunate circumstances. Everyone is rather prickly given what has just happened on this train, and how that could affect all of us. Surely you can see, we are all in this together—quite literally, as we are all on this train as it runs its course—and it is in our best interests not to squabble and fight. Perhaps we should find a spot where we can discuss this matter away from ears that shouldn't hear such conversations."
[dice=Charisma + Etiquette]4d10
Sadly, diplomacy is really not Jim's strong suit, and while he makes an earnest effort, the circumstances—with Ashe surrounded by a group of upset Tremere—do not help his case.
She pauses at Jim's words still staring at Marcus' chest, "Very well then.
Talk.
You have somehow compelled me to be beckoned and so here I am".
"Our association has many gifts, Madame de Lacy. Hopefully we will not be required to show you any others." He nods to Badger to silence the room to allow them to talk freely.
"Why don't we begin with what on earth possessed you to commit a murder on this train and attempt to frame one of us for it."
Marcus closes the door once she agrees to speak.
"My business is with just one of you and he is well aware of the issues. Do you believe that your entire coterie interfering in our business will not spill out between our Clans, because it just may".
"Out of respect for the lady's restraint thus far, I will attempt brevity," Badger says, never dropping the guise. "However, it seems, in my considerable estimation, that the issue, if you would prefer to keep it between individuals, is actually between you and the lad's sire, is it not?"
He pauses only long enough to give the impression he'd like a response. Continuing over anything she might say.
"And if not, I find it unlikely that your own lack of foresight in not expecting to deal with more of this particular clan will reflect favorably on you should you choose to harp on about it. But if you see some way we can resolve this amicably for the good of all then, please, do share."
With that, Badger does his best to keep his face out of Victoria's line of sight.
She chuckles, "Your face may change but your aura does not. Oh I know you.
You were to be mine and not another's.
Perhaps, yes I have acted rashly. Negligently even. I do not know what the solution to this dilemma is".
Sarah interjects, "The crisis has been averted, but that murder investigation is a breach of the Masquerade. Turn yourself into the authorities of the region in which the train was present for judgment.
We will let your little attempt to derail us go and let you go to face whatever penalty is warranted for that breach. If not, we can send you back with the Master who can turn you in".
Badger sighs.
"Yes, my dear, I had surmised as much," he says. "However, as you were being so kind as to attempt to contain the outrage you've shown at the mere sight of me since my embrace, I thought I would attempt to make that a bit easier for you. I can always stop if you like. Then you can throw your tantrum and possibly give us reason to eliminate you for our own protection as well as that of the Masquerade."
He pauses a moment.
"For my own part, I would prefer this did not end in violence. I rather enjoyed our time together."
She frowns. However, as Badger speaks she smiles, "Perhaps... perhaps then I have understood this all wrong. I should blame your Sire and not you for what has transpired.
If I must face judgment I shall. I will allow myself to be taken into custody by your Master. Once that issue is resolved locally I shall lodge a complaint against your Sire in the proper venue".
She pauses, "I... I am sorry. Something similar to this happened in my past and this time, this time I was sure that I should have what I wanted.
I formally apologize to you all for these troubles".
James folds one hand over the other and makes a deep bow to Ms. Ashe. "I am grateful that the solution to this did not require further violence," he says. "Meanwhile, as we are going to be aboard a while, we may still meddle a little bit here and there to nudge things for our own security."
Master Beschi enters the car from his room at that moment, his eyebrows rise in surprise, [b]"This is our assailant?"[b]
Sarah speaks, ""She has agreed to surrender to you Master and face whatever punishment is due in the commission of he crimes, which I believe were perpetrated while we were in Hungarian territory".
Jasmine nods, "Indeed, I wish no further trouble. Sometimes my passions get the better of me".
Master Beschi sighs, "Very well, I am familiar with the Ventrue that control the territory. We will straighten the matter out. As you have come forward, mostly willingly, I will not press hard upon you for punishment my dear".
Jasmine smiles weakly in response. She pauses, "Oh, this is something I believe you will need". She hands a yellow envelope to Marcus.
Donato calls in his bodyguard, "Eliastor, can you escort Miss De Lacy to her quarters where Master Beschi can retrieve her later? I think we have some matters to discuss before we arrive in Constantinople this evening".
The Gargoyle in his obfuscated form nods and escorts her by the arm. She takes one last long look back at Badger before exiting the common room of the sleeper car.
Master Beschi smiles, "Well done Celestyn's Spear. You have resolved that challenge with judicious use of resources. With the exception of a minor errand, you have eliminated what could have been a large problem for us right at the opening leg of your journey. Our most powerful weapon is our wits, not our magic. Magic has limits to use, but our minds do not.
There is little time to teach you more with this difficulty having interrupted last and this evening.
Remember to ask for Sascha at the front desk. They will provide you with her with room number. There she shall deliver to you, the set of instructions to send you along the next leg of your journey.
Good luck to you all, I shall hopefully see you all when you return!"
Master Beschi bows to you all. "I will take custody of the Kindred female and send your Gargoyle back to you Donato".
Henry was glad the entire situation had resolved so painlessly, though he still sort of regrets that they had not staked De Lacy; she could have proven quite useful had they enthralled her to their will. Likely not worth the risk, however. The encounter had further reinforced his prejudices against Toreadors-- they were very flightful creatures. Far too emotional for their own good.
After Beschi leaves he looks to the others. "It appears we have two objectives at the hotel. As the highest ranking Tremere I believe I should be present at the meeting with our contact; I also don't believe my social niceties are likely to be up to par should Spyder already be paranoid of us and eager to lash out. The mage informed us only one or perhaps two of us should meet with his contact Spyder to avoid a hostile reaction. Do any of you feel up to the task of meeting with him?" He asks.
"I'm not exactly a social butterfly, but have been known to engage in the occasional conversation. If that is the role you need me in, I can give it go." Marcus offers.
Donato shrugs, "I think it would be wiser if Sarah and myself were to go. We are the two least threatening, posing as mother and child would confuse any would be aggressor as our pairing would seem an unlikely combination to be delivering some arcana and more of a mistake made by me being chased by a scolding mother".
Marcus shrugs. "Fine by me."
"What is the current predominant language in Constantinople/" says James. "Turkish? Is anyone fluent?"
Sarah responds, "I am fluent in Arabic but I spent some time in this city... I know enough Turkish to get us by to find the proper rooms for each of our groups to accomplish their respective tasks".
James says wryly in a cautiously low voice, "I am suddenly reminded of how much language is a barrier to Dominating the minds of recalcitrant folk. If they can't understand you, they can't be directed."
'I also know Arabic. I've never picked up Turkish regrettably. I'm quite confident that someone at the hotel will be conversant in one of the languages I do know, however."
Sarah nods in agreement, "Indeed, many languages are spoken in the city and in a hotel for certain as they are more used to dealing with the comings and going of travelers".
The rest of the ride takes no more than an hour as the train pulls into at the beautiful Sirkeci Station, constructed specifically for the arrival of the Orient Express. Built in 1888 by German architect August Jasmund, the station is a an architectural gem of both Oriental and Gothic styles with beautiful stained-glass windows. As you all disembark, it is indeed a bee hive of Mortal travelers, wealthy nobles, diplomats, and business people passing through these bustling halls.
The view by day must be a sight, one none of you shall ever see. Still the night lights to Vampiric eyes through the stained glass is still marvelous. Master Beschi waves from his window, you see the Toreador who caused so much trouble seated beside him, she appears defeated, of course, she has been!
Of the Mage, there is no sign. Perhaps he has no need to get off in the city with your group handling his business for him.
Your retainers have gathered your bags and are arranging for a nights stay in the city at a different hotel than the one in which your meetings are scheduled to take place. It seems that Master Beschi made the suggestion and it is a rather prudent move, in case something goes wrong there will be a place to flee to. Donato orders Eliastor to go with them, he will more easily be able to relay the location once it has been booked. The Gargoyle will wait outside of the Grand Hotel de Londres for your business to conclude.
As you exit the station and into the city proper in the heart of the muslim is the international neighborhood of Pera. Located beyond Galata and the Golden Horn. Here the swirl of languages makes it difficult to spy on any one set of Mortals, it is also easy for someone to get lost in this crowd, even in the early evening the crush of Humanity is a sight to behold, being well fed is certainly paying off as the Beast is content to be alert for danger instead of food.
The streets are lined with beautiful new buildings and shops selling goods from around Europe, cafés, and restaurants serving international cuisine and theaters preforming the latest shows, operas, and concerts. Embassies and international schools are mixed with the shops and only a few blocks from there is your destination, the Grand Hotel de Londres.
Sarah pauses and turns to the group, "I suggest that Donato and I split from the rest of you and wander about a bit, we at least know what room to go to. Either group who finishes first should mill about, perhaps outside the station? Otherwise we can be quite lost in this huge city and after all, it is full of our kind, many of whom do not favor our Clan".
"Mmm. None of us should go anywhere alone. There is still bad blood, pun intended, with the ones native to this region."
Sarah shakes her head, "Donato and I will be together, not alone. If this Spyder is being watched and his enemies see us, it is better if you were not connected with us at this place.
I agree with your sentiments Jim, we are in enemy territory in many ways as this place is controlled by non-Camarilla Clans. This is why we should be hasty with our missions".
Donato nods in agreement with Sarah, "Yes, this ruse to reach our goal will be ruined if we appear with five adult men in that lobby. Hopefully, you shall all acquire the information we need to move forward and begone form this city by tomorrow evening at the latest".
Henry nods."Well reasoned. I think this plan makes the most sense and offers each of us the least risk. Remain vigilant, and we'll all meet at the station after our tasks have been completed."
Wenzel nods in agreement. "I am ready."
The Year of Our Lord Sunday January 3, 1911 – Constantinople- the Grand Hotel de Londres -
Minutes pass by as Donato and Sarah split from the main part of the Coterie, Henry satisfied that enough time has passed moves to approach the Hotel.
The crowd thins as the front doors to the hotel are approached, the place is clearly opulent and only those of decent wealth can afford rooms so close to the station. The outside of the hotel maintain the same color scheme as that of the exterior of the cars of the Orient Express and is well situated just a few steps from the Galatasaray Square and it is in the middle of the Main Street.
As you enter the lobby the Orient Express style is maintained within as it was without with heavy wood furniture and ornate curtains keeping out prying eyes of those who do not belong. The name of the contact is Sascha...
Henry approaches the front desk."Good evening. I have a meeting scheduled with one of your guests; a Madame Sascha. If you would provide me with her room number it would be appreciated."
As Henry approaches he sees that there are three clerks active at the front desk (two male one female), two are occupied but one is merely filling out paperwork and he directs his query to her. A middle aged woman still attractive with few wrinkles she pauses and looks up smiling, there the wrinkles can be seen, she is a local wearing a uniform similar in style to those worn by conductors on the Orient Express. He response is in English as was the question but it is a bit slow, "Ah... Madame ah Saschha.
Yes.
Yes.
Expected are guests.
Ah... the number is ah... seven, no?"
"Yes, though a few of our party are running late." Henry responds. "But as our business is urgent, rather than waiting for them we would like to meet with her now."
She smiles in response, [b]"Very well sir.
Fo you need someone to ah... carry ah... luggage?"
"No, I don't believe that will be necessary. If you could provide us the room number we will conduct our business promptly and decide our next action after it is concluded."
The woman, nods, "Yes sir.
You go up yourself.
If your party rest arrives I send them up.
Room 504".
Henry stiffly thanks the woman and returns to his group. " "We have been cleared to proceed. Room 504. Be vigilant just in case."
Mortals continue to enter and exit the hotel but none stand out as posing any sort of concern. Henry leads the group through the lobby and to the lift, the operator, also decked out in Orient Express design, brings the coterie to the fifth floor smoothly with a tip of the hat and a grin.
You proceed down the hall and find, on the side of the building facing the Bosphorous room 504. Standing in the front of the door is an impeccably dressed slender, white male appearing in his early 30s. His short, thin white-gray hair complements his pale skin and blue eyes. His hands are his most remarkable feature: long and slender, with the fourth finger on each longer than the middle one.
His steely gaze catches each of your eyes in turn and he nods as if marking off a checklist. With a grin that offsets the hardness of his stare and a with a cultured British accent he states, "Good evening old boys. Glad to see you are prompt, though I believe your numbers are a bit light yes?"
"Good evening." Henry gives a respectful nod. "The others are around, but found themselves dealing with an additional matter that arose while we were traveling here. I've every confidence they'll be able to handle it without further assistance." He is not foolish enough to bring up the exact nature of the matter in an open area.
He frowns, fangs showing, "This is... an unwelcome surprise.
Wait here, I will check and see if Sascha will see you or if they will wish to wait until your entire party arrived".
He opens the door with just enough room for him to slip through and closes it firmly behind him. Mere moments pass and he opens it once more, his unnaturally long fingers beckon you within, "Very well, you may enter".
A dim flickering light emanates from within.
Henry takes a step forward, then reconsiders. Something seemed unusual about this entire arrangement.
Henry certainly gets the feeling of menace form this door guardsman. The flickering is likely from candles, possibly invocative candles, it invokes the feeling of ritual certainly. However, you do not get the sense of any impending doom.
Deciding he was being paranoid due to events on the train, Henry regains his confidence and heads into the room. He projects a calmness and quiet competence, hoping to impress their contact.