Character fiction from a troupe Vampire: The Masquerade LARP...
Reaching an Accord
by Simon W.
May 2023
Arne was so proud of himself. It radiated off of him like a warm glow. He'd encountered some actual Trolls and they had challenged him. After he'd successfully risen to the challenge they told him he was honorable and giving him a treasure, the hammer Mjölnir. It was a true religious artifact as far as he was concerned and he treated it as though it was approval from the Gods he revered.
***
Of course, two months after gaining the hammer, in July of 2023, Arne was dead. After releasing Nyx into a society he was very honest about not fully believing in, he died for said society rather than spend any time at all acting as a spy or a turncoat. Nyx had wanted to die too, but the Phoenix Society hadn't given them that option.
Nyx returned Mjölnir to the people who had made it in August. They had tried to convince Nyx that it was theirs now but Nyx told the Trolls that it had been a gift for an act of honor and Nyx had no honor with which to make any claims to keep it. The Trolls had been skeptical. But they accepted the artifact back. And then Nyx had sat back and not done a thing to help the Camarilla from the ravages of the 4th Anarch Revolt. They hadn't actively participated on the side of the Anarchs, they just hadn't lifted a finger to save the Camarilla from itself. Which, when it comes right down to it, was basically the same thing.
The other Kindred of the Los Angeles domain assumed that Nyx was doing nothing because they were grieving Arne. Which they absolutely were. And maybe they couldn't have stopped the inevitable anyway, but occasionally the knowledge of their betrayal by inaction bothered them.
The Anarch Movement ran Los Angeles for a while, until Lilith arrived with Her plans and Her schemes and Her power. And that was the end of Los Angeles. Nyx had been in an extradimensional space for a while so they hadn't seen the end. In fact, the last thing they had done in Southern California before getting swept into that space had been to try and go warn the Trolls that they were in terrible danger and they needed to get out of the area. Of course, Nyx had been too late. When they arrived the Trolls were all dead and the true horror of what Lilith planned to do had been laid bare.
And now here they were, in the domain of San Francisco which traversed the entire area from the city by the bay to silicon valley. Nate, no, Prince Black, had managed to convince the four remaining Anarchs that it was in their best interests to join his New Camarilla. And Nyx had rejoined, of course, but not because they believed in Nate's New Camarilla any more than they had believed in the old Camarilla. They believed in Nate though, and they thought that maybe they should try and give Arne's death some meaning. Like part of some macabre joke from an uncaring universe Mjölnir had showed up in Nyx's haven and refused to leave.
***
March 2025
Mjölnir glowed a faint blue which seemed odd. Nyx carefully made their way down the dark alley outside of the museum that everyone else was gathering in. Something was scrabbling around in the dark area by a pile of dumpsters. As Nyx approached they saw a clawed hand reach out and then, in the blink of an eye, an actual demon launched itself at them. Nyx swung Mjölnir and it connected with the demon's body with a satisfying thwack. The demon was momentarily stunned and that moment was all Nyx needed; they beat the demon into a pulp until nothing was left but a pile of red and black ashes. In those few moments Nyx felt nothing but the absolute rightness of their actions. This was what they were meant to do, this is why they existed. Nothing mattered but the simple fact that demons were an existential threat which must be destroyed, preferably with maximum violence.
Afterward Nyx stood in the dark alley, blinking slowly. Mjölnir's blue glow faded and it looked only like a hammer again. Nyx looked at it and then they looked at the pile of ashes at their feet. Mjölnir no longer felt like an unwelcome weight in their hands; instead it now felt simply like an extension of their will.
Normally this would be the time when Nyx would have so many questions about what on earth was going on. But instead they simply squared their shoulders and turned to head back inside. They'd reached some sort of accord with the artifact and only time would tell if this would be beneficial or would be their doom.
