*comment ñáéç…— *hide_reuse *advertisement *gosub_scene util check_flow *set year 1872 *gosub_scene util combat_value *temp bloodied_clothes false *temp hunting_near_beale false *temp soldier "soldier" *temp Irishman "Irishman" Settled into the humid embrace of Memphis, you find yourself luxuriating in your circumstances. One evening in particular, you feel the hunger rising within you, and you know that it is time to hunt. As has been your wont, *if (feeding_style = "artists") or (feeding_style = "Artists") *set feeding_style "artists" you have made thorough use of the musicians and tradesmen that have convened upon the city during and since the war. *if (feeding_style = "children") or (feeding_style = "Children") *set feeding_style "children" you have preyed indiscriminately upon the innocent. The purity of their souls communicates directly to their blood. *if (feeding_style = "clergy") or (feeding_style = "Clergy") *set feeding_style "clergy" you have made the most of the variety of clergy present in the city. Memphis has managed to attract a wide variety of creeds, and you salivate at this cornucopia of choices. *if (feeding_style = "drunks") or (feeding_style = "Drunks") *set feeding_style "drunks" you have made the most of the buoyancy of the times. Blacks and whites alike are flush with the flow of money to the city. Since Tennessee is the first State readmitted to the Union, it occupies an important position during the Reconstruction…a position that is lubricated with booze. *if (feeding_style = "gamblers") or (feeding_style = "Gamblers") *set feeding_style "gamblers" you have made the most of the buoyancy of the times. Blacks and whites alike are flush with the flow of money to the city. Since Tennessee is the first State readmitted to the Union, it occupies an important position during the Reconstruction…a position that is lubricated with games of chance. *if (feeding_style = "itinerants") or (feeding_style = "Itinerants") *set feeding_style "itinerants" you have made the most of the buoyancy of the times. Merchants and their entourages come and go on a daily basis; former slaves move through the region with the joy of freedom; settlers striking out for California pass through Memphis on their way…and all have fallen prey to your fangs. *if (feeding_style = "laborers") or (feeding_style = "Laborers") *set feeding_style "laborers" you have made the most of the fervor of the times. Not only do the bulk of the Irish and the freedmen fulfill your thirst, but the city itself has expanded greatly to accommodate these refugees. *if (feeding_style = "merchants") you have continued to prey on shopkeepers, merchants, and financiers. The cotton trade of Memphis offers an attractive set from which you can choose your prey. *if (feeding_style = "prostitutes") or (feeding_style = "Prostitutes") *set feeding_style "prostitutes" you have made the most of the buoyancy of the times. The practitioners of the world's oldest profession flocked to Memphis during the war, but their prevalence has receded somewhat in the interim. All the same, the buoyancy of the times offers you a welcome breadth of choices on any given evening. *if (feeding_style = "socialites") or (feeding_style = "Socialites") *set feeding_style "socialites" you have sought the company of the well-bred, but the war has brought most of them low. @{met_nbf Some, like General Forrest, have managed to reclaim some of their former glory|Some have worked hard to reclaim some of their former glory}; the rest try to warm themselves in the fading glow of a sun that has long since set. They may welcome you into their homes, but their hospitality is nothing like that of their parents and grandparents. *if (feeding_style = "soldiers") or (feeding_style = "Soldiers") *set feeding_style "soldiers" you have made the most of the garrison that has been stationed in Memphis. Since Tennessee is the first State readmitted to the Union, however, things have become noticeably more challenging. Fortunately, many Union soldiers relocate to the South, seeking brides and inexpensive land. You have been forced to subsist on the blood of these veterans. *if feeding_style = "vegetarian" you have avoided the blood of humans. Your abstention remains a nightly challenge. Sometimes the scent of flesh, especially in large crowds, sharpens your fangs and provokes your bloodlust. Only the greatest efforts of keeps your hunger in check. *set achieve_vegetarian true *achieve vegetarian As you exit your haven, the thought occurs to you that now would be a moment where you could try something different for a change. *choice #Yes! It is time for a change. *set anachronism %+5 *set discretion %-5 *goto new_preference #No. I am confident in the excellence of my choice. *set anachronism %-5 *set discretion %+5 *goto hunt_old #No. I think it best to not risk such a potentially disruptive change. *set anachronism %-5 *set discretion %-5 *goto hunt_old *label hunt_old *if feeding_style = "artists" *goto hunt_artist *if feeding_style = "children" *goto hunt_child *if feeding_style = "clergy" *goto hunt_clergy *if feeding_style = "drunks" *goto hunt_drunk *if feeding_style = "gamblers" *goto hunt_gambler *if feeding_style = "itinerants" *set soldier "boat-man" *goto hunt_itinerant *if feeding_style = "laborers" *set soldier "laborer" *goto hunt_laborer *if feeding_style = "merchant" *comment TODO *goto hunt_socialite *if feeding_style = "prostitutes" *goto hunt_prostitute *if feeding_style = "socialites" *goto hunt_socialite *if feeding_style = "soldiers" Yes, of course. The blood of warriors calls to you still. *goto hunt_soldier *else *goto hunt_vegetarian *comment add frenzy checks if charm efforts are baffled? If high hubris and lower willpower, bad things could happen. *label new_preference Who, then, will you seek out as your prey tonight? *choice *if (feeding_style != "artists") and (creation > 0) #An artist or musician. *set feeding_style "artists" Yes, of course. Their inspiration passes into you through their blood, fueling your own creations. Musicians and artisans have made Memphis into a burgeoning Mecca since the city's capture by the Union. Whether you seek them in their homes, places of business, or in the wake of a performance, they are kind enough to regularly advertise their whereabouts. *page_break *label hunt_artist *set hunting_near_beale true *if memphis_haven = "beale" Of course, it is easy enough to take a jaunt down the block and find yourself on Beale street. The saloons and houses of ill repute a ready source of musicians ripe for the taking. *else Though you must cross town to reach it, nothing compares to the saloons and houses of ill repute that populate Beale Street. The beating heart of the black quarter, Beale offers a seemingly unlimited quantity of musicians eager for a patron. Making your way up the street, you settle on a small saloon from which the sounds of merry-making are easily heard from the outside. Upon entering, you are instantly struck by the talent of the fiddler. An hour or so later, the musicians take a break from their performance, and you find yourself closing in on your prey. *choice #I buy the fiddler a drink, sit him down in a corner, and have my way with him. *if (charm > 2) or ((male = false) and (charm = 2)) Sequestered in a dark corner, you sidle closer to the fiddler. When the moment is appropriate, you lean in, kissing him gently on the ear. He makes noises of encouragement, not realizing what is to come. Moving your way down his neck, you extend your fangs, and with a casualness born of confidence, sink them slowly into his throat. He gives a single, brief gasp, and then is lost to the world, consumed by the ecstasy of your grip. Keeping the wound shallow, you savor the taste, waiting for… there it is. Your heart has lurched to life, beating in time with the fiddler's. You even feel the urge to respirate. When you have drunk as much as you dare, you dab the wound with your blood-spittle, and then leave the fiddler to the rest of his drink. In the morning, he will dream of fire and angels. *goto sort_clotho *else *label entreat_artist_fail *set discretion %-5 He pushes you away from him, clearly uninterested in your wares. Even the promise of the drink is not enough to change his mind. *choice *selectable_if (willpower > 2) #I can hold my thirst until tomorrow; I will find other prey. *set discretion %-10 Another time, perhaps, you will be more fortunate in your endeavors. *goto sort_clotho #I wait for him to leave, follow him outside, and knock him unconscious. It will be difficult to keep a handle on your hunger until then, but you think you can manage it. *goto artist_knock #I wait for him to leave, follow him outside, and kill him. It will be difficult to keep a handle on your hunger until then, but you think you can manage it. *goto artist_kill #I entreat him to take me home with him, and once outside, knock him unconscious. *if (charm > 3) or ((male = false) and (charm > 1)) After the fiddler smiles a knowing smile at you. Gathering his things, he leads you out the back exit and into an alley. *goto artist_knock *else *goto entreat_artist_fail #I entreat him to take me home with him, and once outside, kill him. *set compassion %+5 *if (charm > 3) or ((male = false) and (charm > 1)) After the fiddler smiles a knowing smile at you. Gathering his things, he leads you out the back exit and into an alley. *goto sort_clotho *else *goto entreat_artist_fail #On second thought, I wait until he is done for the evening, follow him out, and knock him unconscious. The night drags on, but thankfully you are able at least to enjoy the music. When the performance draws to a close, you watch as the fiddler gathers his things and exits through the back door. Taking a moment to make sure that no one notices, you hurry after him. *label artist_knock Following in his wake, it is a simple enough matter to strike him over the back of his head. He crumples to the ground, and you drag his body into the midst of a cluster of barrels. Wary of being interrupted, you waste no time in sinking your fangs deep into his throat. You drink quickly, doing your best not to make a mess, and once finished, seal up the wound. *if discretion < 50 *set wealth +5 You rifle through his pockets and take a few coins to better disguise the nature of your encounter. Taking a final look around, you assure yourself that no one has witnessed your deed, and quietly slip away from your slack-jawed prey. *goto sort_clotho #On second thought, I wait until he is done for the evening, follow him out, and kill him. *set compassion %+5 The night drags on, but thankfully you are able at least to enjoy the music. When the performance draws to a close, you watch as the fiddler gathers his things and exits through the back door. Taking a moment to make sure that no one notices, you hurry after him. *label artist_kill *gosub_scene util combat_value_stealth You ready yourself, waiting for the opportune moment. Closing in from behind, you raise your hand to strike him down. *if combat >= 5 *set compassion %+10 *set bloodied_clothes true The first blow knocks him to the ground, unconscious. Dragging his body behind a cluster of barrels, you tear into his throat. Moments later, you are gulping down the blood that spurts wildly from his neck. You revel in the spray as your clothes are ruined and your face is coated with his fading life. *goto sort_clotho *else Unfortunately, the blow to his head is not enough to knock him unconscious. He does stumble for a moment, but recovers, turning to defend himself. Realizing that you are outmatched, you think the better of your plan and flee. *goto hunting_fail *if (feeding_style != "children") and ((compassion > 55) and (streetwise > 1)) #A child. *set feeding_style "children" *set compassion %+15 The purity and innocence of their souls calls to you. Putting away any thoughts of morality, you prepare to hunt the sweetest of fruits. *page_break *label hunt_child It is an unfortunate fact that, in all times and places, there are parents willing to look the other way in exchange for "gifts" and even outright payments; Memphis is no different in this regard. It takes some time to establish the necessary amount of trust with these parents, but soon enough their craven faces begin lighting up at the sight of you. Tonight's visit is no different. The father takes your coin and lets you take his son for a walk. You promise to have him back soon enough. @{priest You smile to yourself, knowing that none will disturb a priest counseling a young member of his flock.|} *page_break About an hour later, you return the boy to his family. Well-satiated, you thank the father, who bows and scrapes as you depart. *goto sort_clotho *if (feeding_style != "clergy") and ((rationalism < 80) and (discretion > 40)) #A member of the clergy. *set feeding_style "clergy" The recent consecration of the Church of St. Brigid at Third and Overton by Bishop Feehan, the second of three to be erected inside of ten years, bespeaks the burgeoning Catholic population of the city. There is, clearly, a corresponding surge in priests and other members of the cloth. *page_break *label hunt_clergy The expedition to St. Agnes is long, almost a mile and half from Court Square, but when you arrive, the sisters are happy to see you. @{priest The sight of your collar and cassock is always a welcome one in their midst.|} Having founded a school for girls here before the war, the nuns served as battlefield nurses for both sides during the war. Having since put aside those habits, they have returned to the task of educating the girls of the city. The Mother Superior, grateful for your regular contributions, is only too happy to arrange for you communions with the sisters. Eventually, they come to look forward to these ecstatic prayer sessions. This evening in particular, you have been saddled with an older specimen, one whose blood tastes of ashes. She is not long for this world. *if love_clotho When you are finished, you erase any traces of your presence, and then head into the courtyard. Once there, you pause for a moment. Or, rather, it seems as though the world stops for your benefit. Just as you entered, a woman passed out the front gate, moving with an unmistakable confidence. You drop whatever you were carrying—a bible, a satchel, something—and rush after her. Once you reach the gate, you look around wildly, trying to determine which way she went. "Clotho?" The sound of a horse catches your attention; you run to the right, where yours is stabled. When you see her, standing there, you stop cold. *page_break Suddenly, you are back there, in New Orleans, holding her close. Only this is not her, but some mulatto servant. You rush to the strange serving-girl, pawing at her, trying to make Clotho come back. She shrieks in terror at your touch. "Clotho! Clotho, where are you?" The serving-girl looks at you, convinced that you have long since left any shred of sanity behind. The Mother Superior appears, calling your name, attempting to calm you. When she sees the blood—the tears of blood—she screams. The scream brings you back to your senses. Quickly, you cut yourself on the arm, and try to place the blame for the blood on the wound. The Mother Superior regains control of herself and offers to stitch it up. "Thank you, but I really must be on my way." You mount your horse and you set out for home, questioning your sanity all the while. *goto finish_hunting *else You do your best not to retch; it is an effort to lean in long enough to close the wound with a lick. You cannot depart quickly enough. *goto finish_hunting *if feeding_style != "drunks" #A drunkard. *set feeding_style "drunks" The virtue of the intemperate is the ease with which they are rendered unconscious. *label hunt_drunk *if memphis_haven = "beale" The saloons on Beale Street are an easy source for your needs. *if memphis_haven = "pinch" The saloons in the Pinch are an easy source for your needs. *if memphis_haven = "yankee" The saloons in the Pinch are an easy source for your needs. That neighborhood is a district north of the city proper along the river, where several waves of immigrants have set up homes before finding better accommodations elsewhere. Spirits are easily had there. *comment endif Once inside one particularly seedy specimen, you cast about for an appropriate target. This process consists mostly of determining which of these louses will put up the least resistance. Settling upon one such individual, it is a small thing to buy one more drink for him, and shuffle him off to a dark corner. Suitably isolated, the buzz of conversation enveloping the two of you, you lean in and sink your teeth into his neck. He gasps, but does not resist. You drink quickly, the spirits communicating themselves to you, rendering you pleasantly intoxicated. The moment of danger approaching, you withdraw, concealing any evidence of your crime. The walk back to your haven is pleasant, your insides warmed by whiskey-soaked blood. *goto sort_clotho *if (feeding_style != "gamblers") and (streetwise > 0) #A gambler. *set feeding_style "gamblers" The rush of victory and the anguish of defeat…should these two sensations be communicated by the blood, what greater [i]terroir[/i] could there be? *label hunt_gambler *set hunting_near_beale true Card games are a dime a dozen. The real rush, of course, comes from higher stakes. To that end, you spend several weeks locating a [i]crapaud[/i]-den. You find a suitable one near Beale Street. Tobacco smoke and spirits mix freely with the clink of the dice on the ground. Men gather, squatting like a council of frogs, cheering and cursing their fortunes. @{male |Some notice your presence when you enter—women are by no means common in such establishments—but you silence them with a look and a few strong words.} Ordering a drink for a dice-caster on a hot-streak is easy enough; and when his fortune runs out, you are there to comfort him. When his blood begins to pass over your lips, you can almost feel your eyes dilating. As your heart lurches into rhythm with his, you find it increasingly difficult to resist the urge to suck him dry. Your fingers and toes begin to tingle as the foreign blood dances its way through your withered veins. Retaining some distant concept of self-preservation, you wipe your mouth carefully and close the wound before jumping up and into the midst of the revelry around you. Soon, you find yourself throwing dice with the best of them, riding the exhilaration as far as it will take you. Unfortunately, as the hours pass, the rush fades. The cast of the dice holds no more thrills, and even losing is just another event in an interminable series of events. Settling your debts, you depart for your haven. *goto sort_clotho *if feeding_style != "itinerants" #A traveler or other itinerant individual. *set feeding_style "itinerants" The boat-people, both the more permanent ones of the Pinch and the less permanent sailors, provide an unending stream of options. Thus, you find yourself spending much of your time at the waterfront. *page_break *set soldier "boat-man" *goto hunt_itinerant *if feeding_style != "laborers" #A laborer. *set feeding_style "laborers" *set soldier "laborer" @{(memphis_haven = "beale") The former slaves that have flocked to the city provide amply for your needs. Prowling in the shanty-town to the south and east of Beale street has become a regular activity for you.|The Irish are looked at with suspicion by both the Northerners and the Southerners. When they can get jobs working for someone other than a member of their family, it is usually as some sort of day laborer. During the evening, then, you find yourself prowling the Pinch, seeking those who are done for the day.} *goto sort_clotho *if finance > 0 #A merchant, banker, shopkeeper, or other financier. *set feeding_style "merchants" *if (priest = false) and ((ethnicity = "southern") or (ethnicity = "french")) With some effort you are able to gain [i]entrée[/i] to the drawing rooms of Memphis. There, the movers of goods, services, and credit are easy to find. One such drawing room rests in the home of Napoleon Hill, who is deeply involved in the chartering of the Memphis Cotton Exchange. After a bit of conversation and repartee, you allow one of Hill's nephews to lead you to the larder, where you take what you will from him. When you are finished, you straighten your clothes and help the young man stumble back to the [i]soirée[/i]. *goto transition_to_spencer The cotton warehouses are a reasonable place to find those who make coin from coin; you head towards their offices. Rather than accost one in his place of business, however, you decide to follow the lot of them to their local watering hole, a saloon midway between their offices and the neighborhood these men call home. *if male Your arrival is noted—they do not recognize you as one of their own, after all—but soon you join some of the men in their conversation, and they are treating you as one of their own. From there, it is a small distance to satiety. *goto sort_clotho *else Your arrival is noted—they must assume that you are a lady of the night, looking for temporary employment—but soon you engage one of the men in conversation, and the rest turn their attention away. After that, it is a small distance from there to satiety. *goto sort_clotho *if (feeding_style != "prostitutes") and (streetwise > 0) #A prostitute. *set feeding_style "prostitutes" The practitioners of the world's oldest profession flocked to Memphis during the war, but their prevalence has receded somewhat in the interim. All the same, the buoyancy of the times will offer you a welcome breadth of choices on any given evening. *page_break *label hunt_prostitute *if male You have become a regular patron of a brothel near your haven. For a few coins, you can have your way with your choice of whores, and no one asks any questions. *if priest The ladies of the evening take a special delight in being visited by a man in collar and cassock, and fight over themselves for your attentions. *goto sort_clotho *else The Madame of the brothel looks at you suspiciously. She has clearly never had a woman enter her establishment in the search for her services. Temperance workers and those offering redemption to her employees, yes…a paying customer, no. Until your coin is on her desk, she does not believe that this is not some grand farce. At the sight of the silver, however, her face changes, and she begins treating you like any other customer. *goto sort_clotho *if (feeding_style != "socialites") *selectable_if (charm > 2) #A socialite. *set feeding_style "socialites" The social world of Memphis was destroyed by the war. The wealthy landowners lost their property—both immobile and animate—in the war. All that remains to them is their ancestral land. @{met_nbf The fortunes of the Forrests are typical of the Southern aristocracy in this regard. Though the ascent was initially slow, since they still own the land, those who were wealthy before the war have been able to rebuild their fortunes.|The fortunes of the Southern aristocracy, however, are not long depressed. Though the ascent was initially slow, since they still own the land, those who were wealthy before the war have been able to rebuild their fortunes.} Soon, those families that have dominated the landscape for a century will do so again. *page_break *label hunt_socialite The home of Napoleon Hill exemplifies this set in the city; he is currently focused on the chartering of the Memphis Cotton Exchange, and pays attention neither to his offspring, nor his nieces and nephews when they are gathered in his home. Having gained access to his drawing room, you suspect that you shall never go hungry. *label transition_to_spencer *set met_olivia_hill true This night in particular seems to have been a fortuitous choice on your part: a local medium—Peg Spencer and her sister Susie—have been asked to give a séance by Napoleon's daughter, Olivia. You've already fed, but you're in no rush to leave. *set spencer_sister_status 2 *if (rationalism > 75) *if love_clotho What if she is able to contact @{love_hope Clotho or Silas?|Clotho?} *if love_hope and (love_clotho = false) What is she is able to contact Silas? *fake_choice #Yes, I will stay for the séance…if only for the entertainment value. *set rationalism %-5 *if (love_clotho or love_hope) #To hear words from a departed love…how can I walk away? *set rationalism %+5 #I am not as gullible as this collection of bored dilettantes and ingenues. *goto sort_clotho *label peg_seance *set spencer_sister_status 3 Everyone gathers around the dining room table. Candles are lit, mirrors and windows are covered, and incense fills the air. The two sisters, with their round faces and mousey brown hair, are the guests of honor tonight. While Peg meditates, Susie Spencer sets the proverbial stage with a short history of women's connection to the other side. "As the givers of life, we are also the bringers of death. We know it more intimately that any man ever could. Every month, we bleed for the lives of those who have come before, will come after, and those that will never come to be. "These talents and inclinations have been passed from mother to daughter for millennia. Among the Hindoos, the pygmies, the mandarins of Canton and Japan, this hidden knowledge is transmitted from one generation to the next. These arts which the Romans and their swords of iron drove into the highlands of Scotland and the tribes of Eire, so too did the Moors and the Mongols seek to exterminate from the Pillars of Hercules to the Land of the Rising Sun. "Even here, our foremothers carried these secrets with them across the ocean, and were burnt at the stake for it in Salem. "My sister encountered her first ghost at the age of four. We did not understand her at the time, but the words of the dead guided her and us for years. Her primary guide is our grandmother, Adelia, who saved us from a fire when we were babes, at the cost of her own life. Even now, from beyond the grave, she guides us. "But the secrets of the dead are not easily relinquished. It comes at great personal cost to my sister, Margaret. But we believe in the words we are here to share with you, and thanks to your generous support, we hope to bring these words to the world at large. "Lastly, I would warn you that your belief—or lack thereof—can greatly impact the success of Peg's efforts. Open your hearts and minds to the possibility that there is more to heaven and earth than you can see with your eyes, hear with your ears, or touch with your hands. Let the currents of the underworld flow unimpeded through this room." *temp knows_fraud false With that, the lamps are extinguished, and the room is reduced to candlelight and baited breath. Olivia—who is sitting next to you—squeezes your leg in anticipation. Everyone joins hands so that the ritual may begin. *if (((agility + perception) + streetwise) >= 5) or (creation > 2) *set knows_fraud true *set spencer_sister_status 5 As soon as the first knocks resound through the room, it is clear to you that the sisters are frauds. Talented frauds, perhaps, but frauds nonetheless. They use numerous techniques @{(streetwise > 1) quite familiar to you|} to draw and hold the attention of the @{(streetwise > 1) marks|attendees} while the other delivers the next flourish. Adelia is the first spirit to "manifest," followed by Olivia's paternal grandfather. *else Moments later, the room jumps at the sound of the first knock. The candles gutter though there is no draught. A great whooshing sound accompanies the moans of Peg as the barrier between the worlds thins. Adelia is the first spirit to make herself known. Then the father of Napoleon Hill, much to the consternation of the Olivia. Thence, several other spirits make themselves @{knows_fraud "known"|known} through Peg, answering questions from beyond the grave posed by the enthralled audience. As the event wears on, Peg is clearly exhausted from the effort. Susie opens the floor to one more supplicant. @{(shapeshifting > 1) You notice Olivia's black cat swishing its tail on the windowsill.|} *temp contact "" *temp contact_he "he" *temp contact_his "his" *temp contact_him "him" *choice *if knows_fraud #I attempt to expose them subtly. *set rationalism %-5 *set shepherd_credentials %+5 *gosub other_supplicant It doesn't take much; a stray knock here, redirecting the attention against the flow of their act there…but before the affair can be completely exposed, Susie calls the matter to an abrupt end, waring of evil spirits in the room that are seeking to harm her sister. She glares at you from the foot of the table. @{(discretion > 55) You respond with a wink and a grin for her and her alone.|} *label goodnight_olivia The two sisters retreat to another room to recover while Olivia and her friends vibrate with excitement over the experience. You excuse yourself. *goto sort_clotho #Let them keep their charade. It may come in use later. *set discretion %-5 The evening ends with little more fanfare. *goto goodnight_olivia #Stand up and denounce the two hucksters. *set discretion %+5 You stand, kicking your chair back. "Cast these thieves and liars from your home. They have deceived you with their moans and groans and sleights-of-hand. They are nothing more than bloodsucking ticks, here to prey upon your generosity!" *if charm > 3 *set spencer_sister_status 4 *achieve denounce_spencer_sisters The room falls silent under the power of your supernatural charm. The guests stand as one, leaving the indignity of the deception to Olivia to address. With only the sisters and Olivia in the room, she is free to excoriate them for their deception. Peg flees to another room to gather their things while Susie attempts to protest the furious hostess. When Peg finally reappears, she and her sister flee the house, never to return. Olivia thanks you for saving her from those reprobates. She only lost a few scores of dollars and a bracelet, a small enough price, all told. You wave away her effusive gratitude; the night is late and you have obligations other than @{(compassion > 50) tending her wounded pride|comforting her}. *goto sort_clotho *else Olivia looks at you, aghast. "${mr} ${surname}, how can you cast such aspersions upon these women? @{male Do you fear the secrets that they have to reveal?|To reject the wisdom and power of your own sex…I cannot comprehend why!} I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave!" You sigh. @{(rationalism > 50) These poor mortals are being lead astray. If they cannot stand to have the truth revealed, you will not waste your time and dignity on their intransigence.|You have seen this obstinence in the face of facts before. It is as though rejecting an article of faith only provokes those who hold it to keep it ever more dear.} There is nothing more for you to do here this evening. You excuse yourself. *set ruined_relationship_olivia_hill true *goto sort_clotho *else *if (love_clotho) #Clotho. *set rationalism %+5 *set contact "Clotho" *set contact_he "she" *set contact_his "her" *set contact_him "her" *label ruse Peg goes still. The room falls silent; the spirits have ceased their knocking. *temp queer_reveal false *if male and (contact = "Silas") *set queer_reveal true *if (male = false) and (contact = "Clotho") *set queer_reveal true "${given_name}?" ${contact}'s voice sounds strange coming from the mouth of Peg Spencer. "Yes!" you exclaim. "Is it you, ${contact}? Is it really you?" "It is, dear ${given_name}. But why have you summoned me from beyond the grave?" "I missed you. I love you. I need you…" "But I am dead, ${given_name}. You must accept that. You must let me go." "Your letter, though! You promised you would return…" *if queer_reveal *set knows_fraud true *set spencer_sister_status 5 "${given_name}, it matters not how deep our friendship was. We brought joy into one another's lives, but all good things must come to an end." "Our…friendship…" you stutter. "The bonds of friendship extend beyond the veil of life and death. I will waiting for you here. But go: find love, have children…maybe even name one for me. You will find other friends. Let me go so that I may rest." *goto after_seance *else "My love! My dear! I have returned. But this is as close as we will ever be until you join me on this side of death's veil." "No…it cannot be!" "I love you, ${given_name}, in a way that consumes the night and illuminates the paths from this world to yours with the fires of memory. But try as I might, those paths are blocked. This is the only way for us to communicate. And even now, I can feel this poor vessel growing weak…" "No! ${contact}! Stay, please!" you plead. You release the hands that you were holding on either side, and a great sigh goes up in the room. *goto after_seance *label after_seance And with that, Peg's voice returns to normal. She slumps in her chair, spent. @{knows_fraud You stare at her, anger roiling through you. Why would she lie to you and to these people? Why would she prey upon their hopes and dreams and most vulnerable moments in this way?|You are already at her side, but ${contact} is gone.} Susie calls an end to the event, lighting a lamp and then attending her sister. Olivia's guests begin to chatter and remark among themselves at the marvels they witnessed. Peg is escorted out, clearly in need of rest. @{knows_fraud You excuse yourself, fearing that you will not be able to further contain your rage|You thank Olivia for the night's revelations and excuse yourself}. *goto sort_clotho *if (love_hope) #Silas Hope. *set rationalism %+5 *set contact "Silas" *goto ruse *if (false) #${sire_name}. *set rationalism %+5 *set contact sire_name *goto ruse #Let the séance end; trucking with the dead is improper. *set rationalism %+5 You let the séance close. It brings the @{(religious_tradition = "pagan") unclean|unholy} ceremony to a quiet end. The sisters excuse themselves to recover, while Olivia and her guests titter over the evening's excitement. You excuse yourself, wanting nothing more to do with those witches. *goto sort_clotho #I attempt to disrupt the séance. If the spirits can provoke noises from random corners of the room, so too can you. *if (((agility + perception) + streetwise) >= 4) *set spencer_sister_status 5 A knock here, a rap there, and the mood in the room changes. It is then that you realize that the two sisters are frauds. Before you can quite process the realization, Susie calls an abrupt end to the demonstration, *if (((agility + perception) + streetwise) < 4) Within a few moments of your first intrusion, Susie Spencer cuts the demonstration short, asserting that evil spirits have begun to infiltrate the room. When the lights are restored, Peg retreats to another room to recover, while the guests vibrate with excitement. You excuse yourself, having decided that there is little more to be accomplished here tonight. *goto sort_clotho *if (shapeshifting > 1) #That cat looks bored. @{knows_fraud I will use it to expose these frauds.|Surely it has opinions on these macabre matters?} *set discretion %-5 *set spencer_sister_status 4 *gosub other_supplicant At your beckoning, the cat slips down into the room. It winds itself around Peg's leg. You can sense her trying to kick it away, but at just the right moment, you suggest a nasty bite. Peg screams—the illusion of the séance broken—and begins cursing at the cat. When the cat continues its attack by latching onto the other calf, Olivia leaps to her feet and tries to seize poor Agincourt. She pets Agincourt protectively, chastising the sisters for their treatment of her precious cat. The bleeding Peg's masque slips; the young man with the missing treasure calls her out on it. Soon, the formerly enthralled participants are shouting angrily at the two sisters, accusing them of being frauds. Peg flees to another room to gather their things while Susie attempts to protest the furious hostess. When Peg finally reappears, she and her sister flee the house, never to return. @{knows_fraud You steeple your fingers and chuckle silently at the chaos.|You hadn't realized the two were frauds, but you aren't sad to see their hustle exposed. You don't appreciate the competition.} *goto sort_clotho *label other_supplicant A young man speaks up, offering the name of his father who died in the war. He wants to know where the family treasures are buried. Peg adopts a look of severe concentration. Soon, her voice deepens and the conversation begins. *return *if feeding_style != "soldiers" #A soldier. *set feeding_style "soldiers" Yes, of course. The blood of warriors calls to you. Many Union soldiers settled in Memphis after the war. Locating their enclaves should not prove difficult. *page_break *label hunt_soldier *if met_albert_pike *goto hunt_pike *if (heresy_of_masons > 0) and speaks_english *goto hunt_pike *if (religious_tradition = "reformed") and ((charm >= 4) and (speaks_english)) *goto hunt_pike *if (ethnicity = "choctaw") *goto hunt_pike There are surely some whom you cannot identify by their bearing, but those are not the ones you are truly interested in feeding on anyway. As such, you imagine that you will know your prey when you see him, and you do: a barrel-chested Irishman, walking with the stiffness of one accustomed to marching in formation. *label hunt_itinerant *if soldier = "boat-man" Finding such an individual in the Pinch is no challenge. This evening you have set your eyes on a barrel-chested Irishman. *label hunt_laborer *if (soldier = "laborer") and (memphis_haven = "beale") *set hunting_near_beale true *set Irishman "freedman" Finding such an individual in near Beale is no challenge. This evening you have set your eyes on a barrel-chested freedman. *elseif (soldier = "laborer") Finding such an individual in the Pinch is no challenge. This evening you have set your eyes on a barrel-chested Irishman. How do you want to approach him? *choice #I attempt to seduce him. Once he has let me close enough, the ecstasy of my fangs will render other concerns moot. *set compassion %-5 *if (charm > 3) or ((charm = 3) and (male = false)) The time it takes for you to lead him from a public space to something more private is negligible. Soon, his breathing becomes ragged as his blood pushes your heart to life. You tremble in turn, relishing the sensations that flood your senses. When you have taken as much as you dare, you close the wound with your spittle, and leave him to sleep off the effects of your charms. *goto sort_clotho *else He pushes you away, clearly uninterested in your wares; this ${soldier} refuses to be distracted from whatever task he has before him. *choice *selectable_if (willpower > 2) #I leave him be. I will not let my hunger get the best of me. *set discretion %-10 Another time, perhaps, you will be more fortunate in your endeavors. *goto sort_clotho #I seek to knock him unconscious. *if combat > 7 @{male He seems almost pleased at the thought of a little exercise. Unfortunately for him, he has clearly underestimated you. Within moments, he crumples to the floor.|He is clearly surprised by your aggressive posture, but once you lunge at him, all thoughts of your gender flee his mind. He quickly resorts to fighting for his life. Within moments, however, he crumples to the floor.} *if compassion < 40 Strangely, you almost have the urge to pant with the exertion, but you quickly push away such vestigial impulses. You bend down, baring your fangs, and sink them deep into his throat. When you have taken as much as you dare, you close the wound with your spittle, and leave him to sleep off the consequences of your encounter. *goto sort_clotho *elseif combat > 5 Unfortunately, as you engage him, you realize that you are outmatched. Not by much, but enough. Your frustration, however, fuels the beast within you, which soon enough rises to overwhelm you. *page_break When you regain your senses, it is to discover yourself crouched over a quickly cooling pool of blood. You realize that, moments ago, you were lapping it up like a dog. The body of the ${soldier}, laying nearby, is nearly unrecognizable. *set bloodied_clothes true *goto sort_clotho *else *goto hunting_fail #It is time for him to die. *label kill_soldier *set compassion %+15 *if combat > 7 You make short work of him. Before his body can strike the ground, your fangs are buried in his neck, and you drink deeply of his cooling blood. *goto sort_clotho *elseif combat > 5 Unfortunately, as you engage him, you realize that you are outmatched. Not by much, but enough. Your frustration, however, fuels the beast within you, which soon enough rises to overwhelm you. *page_break When you regain your senses, it is to discover yourself crouched over a quickly cooling pool of blood. You realize that, moments ago, you were lapping it up like a dog. The body of the ${soldier}, laying nearby, is nearly unrecognizable. *set bloodied_clothes true *goto sort_clotho *else In an effort to surprise him, you strike quickly. Unfortunately, the blow to his head is not enough to knock him unconscious. He does stumble for a moment, but recovers. Realizing that you are sorely outmatched, you think the better of your plan and flee. *goto hunting_fail #I attempt to render him unconscious, at which point I may feed freely. *set discretion %+5 After all, what is the point of hunting such prey if there is no danger in it? *if (stealth > 2) and (combat > 5) Moving beside him, obliviating the very possibility of your existence from his mind, you wait for the right moment to strike. Hidden from any onlookers, a quick blow sends him crumpling to the ground. At that point, you are able to feed from him at your leisure. When you have taken as much as you dare, you close the wound with your spittle, and leave him to sleep off the consequences of your encounter. *goto sort_clotho *elseif (combat > 7) You wait for the ${Irishman} to round a corner. When he does, he is clearly surprised to see you affecting a posture of aggression. @{male After sizing you up for a minute, he shrugs, inviting you to battle.|He clearly thinks this is some sort of joke, but his demeanor quickly changes once you lunge at him.} Unfortunately for him, he has clearly underestimated you. Within moments, he crumples to the floor. *if compassion < 40 Strangely, you almost have the urge to pant with the exertion, but you quickly push away such vestigial impulses. You bend down, baring your fangs, and sink them deep into his throat. When you have taken as much as you dare, you close the wound with your spittle, and leave him to sleep off the consequences of your encounter. *goto sort_clotho *elseif (combat > 5) Unfortunately, as you engage him, you realize that you are outmatched. Not by much, but enough. Your frustration, however, fuels the beast within you, which soon enough rises to overwhelm you. *page_break When you regain your senses, it is to discover yourself crouched over a quickly cooling pool of blood. You realize that, moments ago, you were lapping it up like a dog. The body of the ${soldier}, laying nearby, is nearly unrecognizable. *set bloodied_clothes true *goto sort_clotho *else In an effort to surprise him, you strike quickly. Unfortunately, the blow to his head is not enough to knock him unconscious. He does stumble for a moment, but recovers. Realizing that you are sorely outmatched, you think the better of your plan and flee. *goto hunting_fail #I attempt to murder him, negating any risk of exposure from my prey. *goto kill_soldier *if (knows_about_vegetarianism) and ((feeding_style != "vegetarian") and (compassion < 40)) *selectable_if (willpower > 2) #I will seek to avoid the blood of mortals, relying instead upon that of animals. *set feeding_style "vegetarian" *set achieve_vegetarian true *achieve vegetarian *label hunt_vegetarian *set discretion %-5 *set compassion %-10 Though the blood of horses is more pleasing, out of circumspection you are inclined to feed from animals which are not as highly prized in their individuality. Few herdsmen will pay much attention if their goat seems a little despondent for a day or three, but an anemic horse is a source of immediate concern to its rider. Though the taste is noxious, the presence of a pigpen near your haven is a ready and reliable solution to your problem. You do your best not to vomit the foul-tasting blood of the sow you have chosen for tonight's main course. She squeals in pain, unaffected by the ecstasy that pacifies humans that fall prey to your fangs. You feed as quickly as you dare before fleeing into the night. Sensing your departure, the bravest of the sows take tremulous steps forward, sniffing out the consequences of your visit. *goto sort_clotho #Never mind, my previous preference was the correct one. *goto hunt_old *label hunt_pike *if met_albert_pike Thinking back on Albert Pike, the man you met at the home of Nathan Forrest, you think that you might enjoy the [i]terroir[/i] of his blood. He was quite a leader of men during the war, after all. *page_break *set fed_from_pike true *achieve fedonpike Having already made his acquaintance, it is easy enough to build upon the connection. Though over sixty years old, Pike still carries himself with a pride and rigor that you find intoxicating. His mane of silver-white hair and matching beard convey a gravitas that draws the eyes of those around him. *if compassion > 50 Though his fame makes his murder too dangerous to contemplate for long, the thought of drinking his blood as needed over the next few years offers its own excitement. Before long, he begins divulging his hopes and dreams. It seems that, as he has aged, his fear of a papist conspiracy has only increased. In his eyes, the War Between the States was the result of Irish influence, and that all too soon, a Catholic revolution will put a monarch in the White House. The only organization standing between the papists and their complete victory is the Freemasons. *if heresy_of_masons > 0 *set joined_memphis_masonic_lodge true *set exposure +1 *if ethnicity = "irish" During these political discussions, he somehow manages to gloss over your rather obvious heritage. The adage that we see only what we wish to see has never seemed so appropriate. In time, you divulge your membership in the Order to him. He is overjoyed to learn of this, and he invites you to join the Memphis lodge. Once you have gained admittance, he does his best to make you feel welcomed. *if (learn_of_masons) and (heresy_of_masons = 0) He tells you little that you did not already know of the Order. *if learn_of_masons = false *set learn_of_masons true According to Pike, the Freemasons are a fraternal order that celebrate the pinnacle of humanity, the Enlightened democrat. *goto fed_on_pike *if ethnicity != "choctaw" Considering the ease with which your charm your interlocutors, you tend to prefer a more refined type of prey: officers at the least, majors and generals when you can find them. Of course, in the wake of the war, you need only throw a stone to hit someone who can claim a star or two for their collar. And so it is that you make the acquaintance of Albert Pike, a former brigadier general of the Confederate States Army. *if ethnicity = "choctaw" Whether out of a sense of appreciation or vengeance–you're not quite sure–you find yourself hunting down Albert Pike, a former brigadier general of the Confederate States Army. The most distinguishing feature of his command was the treaties he struck with the Chickasaw and Choctaw, and the creation of three regiments of Indian cavalry. Since the war, he has established a legal practice in Memphis, and is amenable to making your acquaintance. *page_break *set fed_from_pike true *achieve fedonpike Though over sixty years old, Pike still carries himself with a pride and rigor that you find intoxicating. His mane of silver-white hair and matching beard convey a gravitas that draws the eyes of those around him. @{(compassion > 50) Though his fame makes his murder too dangerous to contemplate for long, the thought of drinking his blood as needed over the next few years offers its own excitement.|} The ritual of acquaintanceship comes easy to you. Before long, he begins divulging his hopes and dreams. *if met_albert_pike It seems that, as he has aged, his fear of a papist conspiracy has only increased. In his eyes, the War Between the States was the result of Irish influence, and that all too soon, a Catholic revolution will put a monarch in the White House. The only organization standing between the papists and their complete victory is the Freemasons. *if met_albert_pike = false *set met_albert_pike true It is, of course, the same old story as when you met him before: the Irish are the cause of the War Between the States, the impending rise of a Catholic President…it's as though, by repeating these fables over and over again, he will make them true. *if heresy_of_masons > 0 *set joined_memphis_masonic_lodge true *set exposure +1 *if ethnicity = "irish" During these political discussions, he somehow manages to gloss over your rather obvious heritage. The adage that we see only what we wish to see has never seemed so appropriate. In time, you divulge your membership in the Order to him. He is overjoyed to learn of this, and he invites you to join the Memphis lodge. Once you have gained admittance, he does his best to make you feel welcomed. *if (learn_of_masons) and (heresy_of_masons = 0) He tells you little that you did not already know of the Order. *if learn_of_masons = false *set learn_of_masons true According to Pike, the Freemasons are a fraternal order that celebrate the pinnacle of humanity, the Enlightened democrat. As the Sovereign Grand Commander of the Southern Jurisdiction of the Order, Pike wields considerable influence. Moreover, the recent publication of his manuscript on the [i]Morals and Dogma of the Order[/i] has only increased his prestige. *label fed_on_pike *if observing_kkk or joined_kkk Interestingly, the place where the Freemasons seem to differ from the Ku Klux Klan is on the matter of the former slaves: for Pike, the slaves should be raised up as potential allies against the Catholic threat. Here, he differs from his friend and former compatriot, Nathan Bedford Forrest. *comment endif "I will go to Washington, and there I will do everything in my power to thwart the papist tide!" he declares, nearly red in the face. It seems he holds a special disdain for the Irish who have flooded the North since a famine wrecked their lands. "I am sure the country will be indebted to your service, General." "If I am successful, they will never know how indebted they are." *set met_albert_pike true *page_break *if love_clotho Closing his door behind you, you begin the journey home. The evening is brisk; still wrapped in fading warmth of Pike's blood, the thought occurs to you that once you would have shivered at such a breeze. It is only a few blocks before a woman with tawny skin, walking with an unmistakable gait, passes through your field of vision. *goto glimpse_clotho2 *else *goto finish_hunting *label sort_clotho *page_break *if love_clotho *goto glimpse_clotho *elseif memphis_haven != "yankees" *set noticed_paving true Your return journey to your haven is interrupted by a novel smell. At first you think it is smoke, but turning a corner, you discover its source: the roads are being paved. The stench is overwhelming, but thankfully the worksite is left untended in the darkness, else the workers might have noticed you gawking at the sight. After a quick survey of some of the other nearby streets, you estimate that most of the downtown will soon be paved. *if anachronism > 70 Were you mortal, your heart would be beating in excitement: change is coming to Memphis, and you will be here to see it. *if anachronism < 45 Continuing home, a scowl animates your face. Change is never good, and you fear what disruptions these particular ones will bring. *comment endif *goto finish_hunting1 *else *goto finish_hunting *label glimpse_clotho *if hunting_near_beale Finding yourself back on Beale Street, you straighten your clothes. *if bloodied_clothes Unfortunately, there is nothing you can do about your clothes until you get home and burn them. Looking this way and that, you catch sight of a figure on the other side of the street, moving with an unmistakable gait. *if hunting_near_beale = false Satiated, you seek to get your bearings. Stepping out onto a larger street, you straighten your clothes and look around. *if bloodied_clothes Unfortunately, there is nothing you can do about your clothes until you get home and burn them. It is then that a woman with tawny skin, walking with an unmistakable gait, passes through your field of vision. *comment endif *label glimpse_clotho2 "Clotho?" you say, no louder than a whisper. *if hunting_near_beale = false Strange…what would she be doing in this part of town? Again. "Clotho?" you call. She has since turned, and is now walking down a side street. Recovering from your surprise, you rush after her. No one dares stand in your way. "Clotho?" A scream this time. Where is she? Is she running from you? Does she fear you? And finally she is before you. She is looking at you with terror in her eyes. You pull her close, words of misery and apology and hope pouring from your heart. Why is she struggling? Now she's screaming. People are looking at you. People are looking at you and not-Clotho. Because this isn't Clotho. She looks like Clotho. Maybe. From across the street. She continues to struggle. You apologize, try to explain, but she wants to hear none of it. Eventually, you let not-Clotho go. She flees into the night. You slink away, wondering if you have lost your grip on your sanity. For, truly, what sanity can an immortal claim? *page_break Your haven is cold upon your return. When the sun begins to rise, you put off sleep as long as possible; you do not look forward to the dreams that are likely to come. *gosub thieving *finish *label finish_hunting *if noticed_paving Your return home is uneventful. *label finish_hunting1 You lay down for the day, warmed by the thought of the nights to come. *if chasing_wilson Even when the specter of ${wilson} rises before your eyes, you push it away, confident that you will solve that problem soon enough. *else *set noticed_paving true Your return home is enlivened only by the discovery that several of the streets downtown have been paved. Made from wooden blocks, they seem solid enough, and they dramatically reduce the noise from horses' hooves and carriage-wheels. It gives a touch of the modern to the downtown area. *if compassion < 40 Some part of you glows with pride that your city should improve itself so. *page_break Arriving home, you ask Franklin about the paving blocks. He listens attentively as you recount your discovery of them. @{(perception > 2) Generously, he does not point out that they were installed some months ago, but you've learned to read his expressions with some precision.|} Undressed, you lay down in your resting-place, warmed by the thought of nights to come. *if chasing_wilson Even when the specter of ${wilson} rises before your eyes, you push it away, confident that you will solve that problem soon enough. *if (technology > 1) and (discretion < 60) *page_break Intrigued as you are by the innovations of the day, you awake the next night seeking more information about the paving blocks. It turns out that the city is using cedar blocks as the paving material. After some research, you learn to your dismay that cedar blocks work very well under consistent weather conditions: always wet, always dry, or always moist. Unfortunately, if the weather cycles between very wet and very dry, the cedar blocks rot and crumble very quickly. Though you have not been here long, from what you have observed, these paving blocks will have a hard time of it in Memphis. If that weren't enough, the creosote treatment causes the blocks to burst into flame when exposed to high temperatures; Nicholson paving in Chicago is blamed for the spread of the Great Fire there last year. Instead of serving as fire-breaks, the very streets caught on fire, spreading the flames far and wide. *goto thieving *label hunting_fail You do not stop until any possibility of chase has long since been wiped away. *if compassion < 40 You find yourself inclined to pant, but do your best to resist the urge. Your choice of prey was clearly poor. You resolve to be more careful in the future. Taking a roundabout way home, you finally return to your haven. Once there, you lay down for the day and do your best to imagine a successful future for yourself in this city. *if chasing_wilson Especially one that does not involve your ongoing humiliation at the hands of Wilson. *goto thieving *label thieving *if (thief = false) and ((income < 5) and (wealth < 50000)) *page_break *gosub_scene util activate_thief Considering your nigh-destitute situation, you have found yourself increasingly stealing from your victims. Cash, coin, jewelry…anything that can be resold with a minimum of fuss. As much as you might like to think that you are above creature comforts, you know that that is a lie. You need money, and why reject what is so easily taken? *if ((jesse_is_broodmate and (jesse_rapport > 40)) or (jesse_rapport > 55)) and (pitchforks_in_saintcharles = false) *page_break *temp facetious false In the fall of 1872, you receive a letter from Jesse. It contains the usual gossip and nonsense that you would expect from him. *if (jesses_revolutionary_credentials >= 50) and (revolutionary_credentials >= 55) After some time, Jesse arrives at his purpose: he expresses concern about the success of Stone's revolution, and Carothers's rôle in the movement. Some in the Society fear that Carothers's attempts to hold on to his humanity are undermining his ability to govern a city. If you want to help him—and the Revolution—you should strive to help to shoulder the burdens of administration. *elseif (jesses_revolutionary_credentials <= 50) and (revolutionary_credentials <= 45) After some time, Jesse arrives at his purpose: he expresses delight that Stone's Revolution considers Carothers to be a key pillar. Carothers is weak, Jesse notes, doing his best to balance his humanity with the obligations of the Society. One opportune push and Carothers could become a danger to himself and those around him. *elseif (revolutionary_credentials > 45) and (revolutionary_credentials < 55) *set facetious true After some time, Jesse arrives at his point: the time will come when you are no longer able to feign neutrality with regard to Stone's Revolution. Everyone will have to choose sides, including you. *else *set facetious true After some time, Jesse arrives at his point: he is disappointed that Stone's revolution has come between the two of you. He hopes that the next decade will open your eyes to your mistake. You write back to thank him @{facetious facetiously |}for his advice.@{facetious If he notices, he doesn't remark upon it.|} *finish Next