Snippets and Interludes

Character fiction from a troupe Vampire: The Masquerade LARP...

Snippets and Interludes

by Simon W. 

1852 - West Canadian Territories

    The local farmers were gathered in what passed for a town for a meeting. Saoirse had gone with her father-in-law. She worried about leaving her mother-in-law and the children alone on the farm but he had insisted that she would need to hear what they had to say. The rumors bothered him, he'd said. Saoirse didn't listen to rumors; she was far too busy trying to run the farm. She was grateful to her in-laws for moving in after Cian died but both of them were getting on in years and the bulk of the work fell to her. It was nice to have some help with the children though; she couldn't imagine trying to keep it all together alone. 

    The other farmers were tense and nervous. A huge wolf was menacing all of the local sheep and goat herds. The community wasn't down on the plains; they were up in the mountains and no one had enough land to keep cattle. So everyone had the smaller and hardier animals. When asked what she'd do if the apparently monstrous sized creature came to her farm, Saoirse's reply was simple, "shoot it". The other farmers shuddered and said it was a bad omen. 

    Three days later the body of a young man was found mangled in the woods. He'd been clawed to death by an animal. Some of the local Dene hunters who had come across him said it looked like he was running away when he'd gotten taken down. They said that the thing in the woods was a wendigo and that no one should go outside after dark. 

    A few days after that, when Saoirse was doing a last check to make sure that the animals were secure in the barn for the night, she found an enormous wolf inside the barn. So she shot it. It ran out of the barn even though she could have sworn she'd made a killing shot. After that either Saoirse or her father-in-law slept in the barn over night with the goats. 

    After a week of this they were starting to feel like the danger might have passed. There were no reports of any more sightings of the giant wolf and people started thinking that maybe Saoirse had wounded it badly enough so that it'd crawled away somewhere to die. She was sleeping in the barn for one more night. Well after dark the temperature dropped as the inside of the barn filled with mist and she looked around suspiciously. The mist coalesced into a Dene man in front of her and Saoirse shot at him. She could have sworn that she had hit him but he didn't seem phased by the bullet. 

    "You," he said in only slightly accented English, "are either very fierce or very stupid. I am Mahikan and you are the only person I have seen in this entire settlement that is worth my time."

    In response Saoirse pulled the trigger again, only to find that somehow the man had moved incredibly fast and had his hand blocking her own. "What are you" asked Saoirse, "some devil from hell? Or the wendigo that the Dene are so worried about?" 

    "I will explain all...later. But for now you will come with me."

    "I will not."

    "You will, because if you don't I will kill all of the goats and all of the people on this farm."

    Early on in their courting days, Cian had laughingly taught Saoirse how to throw a punch. He'd claimed that since she had no older brothers to teach her it was his honor to do so and she'd never know when she might need to know such things. Well, now she needed to know such things. It was somewhat wild and unpracticed but she landed one blow to his face with her off hand that wasn't holding the gun. For a moment he looked shocked and then he smiled. "Both," he said, "you are both very fierce and very stupid. I like you."

    "The feeling isn't mutual," Saoirse in a growl. She was absolutely terrified and quickly running out of options so she squared up for another punch. 

    Mahikan just shook his head. "No, you will not win against me in combat, at least not tonight. Soon though, I think very soon. Now, let's be rational. You want your farm and your family to survive. I will not harm them but you have to come with me. The children stay with their grandparents and you disappear. Everyone will think that the wolf got you. Which has the benefit of being true."

1863 - Austin, Nevada

    The men had found something in the silver mine. Saoirse had been watching them for a week now and it was very obvious that they were nervous. Saoirse hadn't been awake to see it, of course, but the crows informed them that during the afternoon the only priest in town had gone in there with a group of men and after some time had passed they had all run out of the mine screaming. 

    Saoirse could feel that something was very off. They felt itchy all over which was a feeling that they had learned to associate with something very strongly weird being around. It was an uncomfortable feeling but they had learned to trust that it meant that something was around that was far too dangerous for the ordinary humans to interact with. 

    They waited until well after dark and then flew to the mine entrance as an owl. They only shifted back to human form after they were well out of sight of the entrance. Saoirse hadn't managed to be particularly sneaky. So instead they had relied on their intellect and observation skills. It might be hard to hide, but it was easier to just not be around when people are. 

    Unfortunately, someone else had gotten there first. As Saoirse came around the bend to where the thing that the miners had found, they saw a man standing there looking at it with a slide rule. Saoirse sighed quietly; they didn't enjoy having to kill people but it was sometimes regrettably necessary. But before they could attack the man said, without turning around, "Good evening; I was wondering if you'd make your way down here before I left." He had a British accent and a completely unperturbed air. When he turned to look at Saoirse, they noticed that his eyes had the same faint red glow that they knew their own had right now to see better in the dark. 

    Saoirse backed up, just one step. Enough to show respect but not enough to show fear. "Good evening. I didn't realize anyone else was here. If this is your territory, I apologize for intruding."

    He waved at the air, dismissing the concern. "No, no; I don't think any one of us claims this place. Now the Garou, they probably do. But they don't want anything to do with this item as far as I can tell."

    "Garou? What are Garou?" Saoirse asked.

    "You wander around Garou territory and you don't know what they are?" The British man seemed very surprised. Then he looked more closely at Saoirse. "How young are you?"

    "I'm thirty-two. That is not particularly young."

    "No, no. You are obviously not thirty-two." He sighed. "Let me begin again. Good evening, I'm Cuthbert Beckett. Please, just call me Beckett. I'm a Gangrel, as I suspect you are. How long has it been since you changed from what you were before into what you are now?"

    Saoirse was slightly taken aback by the change in tone. But they recovered themselves. "My apologies for not introducing myself. I am Saoirse Malone. And I have been this way for..." they counted in their head, "eleven years now. Yes, I am a Gangrel."

    "Did you sire, that's the vampire that made you, explain anything, anything at all?" 

    "Only the basics, and only after I'd figured out most of it on my own. He came to see me a year after he changed me and told me I am a Gangrel. Then he wandered off. I've not seen him since."

    "Typical," muttered Beckett. "I swear we need a better system." Then in a normal speaking voice he continued, "and what brings you here Saoirse Malone."

    "That." Saoirse pointed at the object he'd been inspecting. "I can feel that. Well, I can feel all things like that. They aren't safe for the people out there." Saoirse vaguely waved their hand in the air indicating outside the mine. "I find them and I put them somewhere that people don't have access to them. Sometimes I try and find out what they are but oftentimes I can't because no one has written anything down. Or, if they have, they are in libraries I can't break into."

    While they were saying all of this Beckett's face went through a series of expression changes from confusion, to surprise, and lastly to delight. "Oh, I am very glad to have met you Saoirse Malone," he said. "Would you like the chance to learn what these things that you can feel are? And are you willing to take me to where you put the ones you've already found. I'm a scholar, you see, a scholar of antiquities and I suspect that you could be one too with a little training." 

1868 - Ivory Coast, Africa

    Saoirse arrived at the location Beckett had told her about in the middle of April. He claimed that he had made all of the arrangements for being allowed to be there Saoirse was skeptical. Nothing she had heard about this region made her think this was going to be an easy or safe assignment. And typically, if she was coming in it was because Beckett had already managed to get himself kicked out. 

    Bodies littered that area, courtesy of the French troops who'd been stationed here. There'd been trouble recently with a local group of insurgents. Saoirse didn't particularly care about human politics beyond feeling a vague sympathy for the natives and a dislike of colonizers. But that wasn't why she was here. It was going to make things more difficult that there was an active fire fight happening though. 

    The artifact was inside the fortress at this point. Saoirse had asked Beckett why he hadn't been able to get it before it had been moved and he'd made some sardonic comment about wanting to give her something to do for a change. She didn't buy it. He'd probably gotten kicked out by whomever was running this region before he could retrieve it. 

    "Typical," she muttered to herself. "I swear we need a better system."

    She planned to do some scouting and probably would need to hire a translator. Saoirse had proved quite adept at ancient linguistics but struggled with modern languages. It both amused and annoyed Beckett to no end. He couldn't understand it, polyglot that he was. 

    A change in the quality of the silence behind her made her turn around. A man was there, somehow managing to lounge against a wall while still standing. He looked supremely comfortable and confident. No human would be here, amidst all this death, with such nonchalance. Saoirse sighed internally, this was probably who claimed this territory and of course Beckett hadn't given her anything close to proper information. 

    "Good evening," said Saoirse in English, "I hope you can understand me."

    He grinned, "Beckett told me that you'd be ridiculously formal. Yes, I can understand you."

    Saoirse relaxed very slightly. "You know Beckett?"

    "Yes, I've done some odd jobs for him here and there. He mentioned that you'd need a translator."

    "You speak French then?"

    His grin returned, even wider than before. "I speak French so old that it becomes Latin again. But I kept up with it changing, so I can speak to the locals. My apologies for not introducing myself before. My name is Etienne Capet; if you're feeling very formal you may call me Sir Etienne." 

    "Saoirse Malone," she stuck out her hand for a handshake. Etienne took the proffered  hand but then he placed a formal kiss on the back of it. Saoirse gave him a sardonic look that she'd seen very often on Beckett's face. "That was gallant but unnecessary, Sir Etienne." 

    "Oh, I think you'll find it was extremely necessary. But more on that later, after we retrieve this artifact for your sire. Shall we?" He offered his arm. 

    Saoirse continued to look skeptical but she took his arm and they walked off toward the fortress. "Have you broken into many fortresses to steal artifacts before, Sir Etienne?"

    He laughed. "Oh, I have so many stories. I'll tell them to you... later. I think you and I are going to get along just fine."

    "Don't be so sure about that."