*comment ñáéç…— *hide_reuse *advertisement *gosub_scene util check_flow *temp leave_word false *gosub_scene util combat_value *temp attacked_clotho false *temp charlatan "charlatan" *if rationalism > 50 *set charlatan "witch" *temp drained_clotho false *temp clotho_subdues_theriot false *temp humility false *temp terroir true *temp heard_patois false *temp learned_french false *temp reference_to_clotho "the mulatto woman" *temp jesse_embraced_clotho false *temp character_embraced_clotho false *temp marshal_killed false *temp stealth_added false *temp theriot_location "empty" *temp avoided_patois false *temp claim_of_love false *temp knows_about_debts false *temp knows_about_creditor false *temp clotho_presented false *temp fed_from_clotho false *temp flowers_from_babineaux false *temp excited false *comment This vignette occurs approximately during 1827. *if (feeding_style = "artists") or (feeding_style = "socialites") Considering your preference for the blood of ${feeding_style}, you cannot long resist the temptation of calling on M. Hébert@{(feeding_style = "artists") ; he styles himself as something of a poet, at least enough to have suitors of all ages and genders fawn over his witticisms|}. You soon begin calling on him regularly; *else Of late, you have made a habit of calling on this M. Yves Hébert, a young Frenchman possessed of the most exquisitely scented blood. Estefania was correct, he really does have an exquisite [i]terroir[/i]. Unfortunately, @{(feeding_style = "artists") you've since learned that his witticisms are all rehearsed—gathered from his subscriptions to a number of journals from the Continent—| his conversational skills are minimal }and you've learned that it is best to call on him late, so that he will be required to excuse himself for bed shortly after your arrival. By now, he is surely intoxicated and nearing the end of his evening allowance; his family strictly monitors his daily losses at cards. *label affair_begin_1 *if embrace_of_affection and jesse_is_broodmate *set jesse_rapport %-5 *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-10 Walking down la rue Conti, your mind churns with distress. Since his arrival, Jesse has frequently come between you and your maker. You feel as though you are no longer first in the eyes of your dominus, and this weighs heavily upon you. You are, therefore, too distracted to prevent yourself from colliding with a young woman—wearing the trousers and shirt of a man!—hurriedly exiting the home of M. Hébert. *else It is while you are contemplating how best to explain your tardiness that you first become aware of a young woman—wearing the trousers and shirt of a man!—hurriedly exiting the home of M. Hébert. She carries the smell of death about her like a perfume and when she bumps into you, you find yourself momentarily entranced by the way that fragrance complements her tawny skin. *if (speaks_english = false) and (speaks_french = false) The impact is light and you smile at her. She excuses herself politely in French, and then continues on her way. You retire inside. *page_break *goto distracted_feeding "Pahdon me, @{male suh|mam'selle}, Ah did naht see yous dere." *set heard_patois true You shiver at the impact. What was that? *choice #I feel…excited. There is something about this woman. I must know more. *set excited true *if (choice_randomtest = false) #It was nothing. A cool breeze. Of course. You nod at her apology, and let her go on her way. *goto distracted_feeding "That is quite alright, Mademoiselle. Are you coming from M. Hébert's company?" She looks a little hesitant before responding. "Ah is." "I don't believe we've met. I am ${mr} ${given_name} ${surname}, a friend of M. Hébert." "Ah is 'onahd ta make yurs ackwain'nce, ${mr} ${surname}. Ah wus jus' leavin'." With that, the woman prepares to excuse herself. The thought of her imminent departure is suddenly very unpleasant. *label clotho_loop *choice #Let her go. M. Hébert is expecting me. "Good evening to you, Mademoiselle," you say as she passes you. You retire inside. *set compassion %+5 *goto distracted_feeding #"Might I have the pleasure of your acquaintance, Mademoiselle?" *label meet_clotho "Dey calls me Clotho." *set reference_to_clotho "Clotho" *if ethnicity = "african" You have heard of this "Clotho;" *if rationalism > 60 she is a Voodoo Priestess who gains power over her enemies by torturing miniature effigies of them. *elseif rationalism >= 40 she is rumored to be a Voodoo Priestess, capable of simple curses and divination. *else she is a charlatan who strikes fear into the gullible of the city with stories of her own mystical prowess. *elseif streetwise > 0 You have heard of this "Clotho;" *if rationalism > 60 she is an African witch who kills her enemies by torturing miniature effigies of them. *elseif rationalism > 40 she is rumored to be a witch or a priestess, capable of simple curses and divination. *else she is a charlatan who strikes fear into the gullible of the city with stories of her own mystical prowess. *set met_clotho true *if speaks_latin or (intelligence > 2) Clotho, of course, is the name of one of the Greek [i]Moirae[/i], or Fates. She is the one who measures the thread of life. *choice #"What business do you have with M. Hébert?" *goto belligerent_question *if (streetwise > 0) and (met_clotho) #"I have heard of you, Mademoiselle. It is possible that I could need your aid in the future. Might I know how to contact you?" Clotho looks up and down rue Conti furtively, making sure no one is paying the two of you mind; it may be late, but these streets are rarely empty. "Dere is ah man on dah Square. 'im ansahs ta' Guidry. 'im wul tells me ifn ya needs me. Now ahs bes' be goin'." With that, she separates from you and heads away from the Hébert home. *set leave_word true *goto distracted_feeding #"Do you often visit the young men of the city at a compromising hour?" "Ah does when deys in need of me, y${es_suh}." "And what does M. Hébert need of you, Mademoiselle?" "Ah s'pose you bes' be axin' im dat," she says, brushing past you. You watch her disappear down rue Conti. *goto distracted_feeding #"What business did you have with my dear friend M. Hébert?" *label belligerent_question *set discretion %+5 "Dat is b'tween im ahn me. Now, you bes' be goin' on yo' way, 'fore you make trouble for ya'self." You are somewhat taken aback by this threat. *if met_clotho = false Who could this woman be? *choice *selectable_if (discretion < 60) #"I meant no harm, Mademoiselle. Good evening." *set discretion %-5 With that, the two of you separate, and you enter the abode of M. Hébert. *page_break *goto distracted_feeding #"You could no more harm me than a lamb could harm a lion." *set discretion %+5 *if charm > 3 She takes a second look into your eyes, and you can almost see her backing down before your awe-inspiring stare. "Ah bes' be goin' now. Fuhgive dis po' soul." You nod approvingly at her change in demeanor, and watch her go on on her way. You retire inside. *goto distracted_feeding *else "An' sometime deh lamb b'come deh ram. You take care now," she concludes, before heading down rue Conti. You retire inside. *goto distracted_feeding #Trouble? I'll show you trouble… *gosub_scene util combat_value *set attacked_clotho true *if combat > 4 You lay your hands on her shoulders, and drag her into the space between the houses. She lets out a little scream in the moments before you cover her mouth with your hands. *choice #Kill her. *set compassion %+20 *set discretion %+20 Baring your teeth, you sink them into the supple flesh of her neck. You drink from her lifeblood until she goes limp, and finally let her corpse collapse to the ground at your feet. Wiping your face, you retire inside. *page_break Yves is filled with his usual nonsense, of which you are less tolerant this evening than usual. Thankfully, however, you are already full, and after a cursory greeting, you leave him pleading for your return. *page_break A few weeks later, M. Hébert is forced to retire to the family plantation; apparently *if knows_about_debts his debts caught up with him. *else he was doing a poorer job than you realized in managing his finances. If you still cared about such things, you might have missed Yves and his fragrant life-force, but surely another toy will turn up soon. And, besides, the politics of the Society demand so much of your attention these nights… A quiet year passes. *finish Next #Feed from her and leave her unconscious. *set compassion %+5 Baring your teeth, you sink them into the supple flesh of her neck. Wiping your face, you retire inside. *page_break Yves is filled with his usual nonsense, of which you are less tolerant this evening than usual. Do you want to ask him about his previous visitor? *goto talk_with_hebert_1 #Beat her, and make sure she knows to be more respectful to you next time. *set compassion %+15 *set discretion %+10 And so you do. When you are finished, she lies there, bleeding and crying. The thought occurs to you that these mortals are nothing more than decaying pulps of flesh, pulps that should learn to not be so insolent. You retire inside. *label hebert_withdraws *page_break *set compassion %+5 *set independence %+5 *if learned_french Thanks to your patronage, M. Hébert is able to extend his stay in the city for a while yet. In the meantime, your mastery of French progresses to the point that you no longer need his tutelage. As soon as you withdraw your financial support of him, he is forced to retire to his family's plantation; apparently he was doing a poorer job than you realized in managing his finances. If you still cared about such things, you might have missed Yves and his fragrant life-force; but surely another toy will turn up soon. And, besides, the politics of the Society demand so much of your attention these nights… *elseif (hebert_debt_cancelled = false) A few weeks later, M. Hébert is forced to retire to the family plantation; apparently he was doing a poorer job than you realized in managing his finances. If you still cared about such things, you might have missed Yves and his fragrant life-force; but surely another toy will turn up soon. And, besides, the politics of the Society demand so much of your attention these nights… $!{reference_to_clotho}, on the other hand, you do not see again. *if met_clotho *set heard_of_laveau true You hear later that she was poisoned, but her name is quickly forgotten by the inhabitants of the city as Marie Laveau rises to local notoriety. A quiet year passes. *finish Next *else @{male As you move to seize her, she knees you in the groin. While such things are not of value in the same way as during your mortal life, it does stun you long enough for her to get a head start. You could pursue her, but that would take time, and your food may be getting cold inside.|You move to seize her, but she is too fast for you. While your dress is by no means substantial, it has more bulk than hers, a difference that she uses to her advantage. Within moments you find yourself on the ground, and she is fleeing down rue Conti. You could pursue her, but that would take time, and there is easier prey inside.} *goto distracted_feeding *if ((anachronism < 75) and ((ethnicity != "african") and (ethnicity != "choctaw"))) #"It is inappropriate for a young lady to be wearing clothes of that sort!" "Ah begs ya pahdon, ah meant no'ffence. Fuhgives meh, @{male suh|mam'selle}." You nod at her apology, but you're not done with her yet. "What business do you have with my dear friend M. Hébert?" *goto belligerent_question *if ((ethnicity = "african") or (ethnicity = "choctaw")) #"Who are you hiding from?" I inquire conspiratorially, nodding at her attire. She visibly relaxes. "Anyone dat may be watchin'. Dere's a bunch ah folks who be innerested in dah goins and comins uh Massa Hébert." "I am ${given_name} ${surname}," you say, @{male extending your hand|clasping her hand in yours}. *goto meet_clotho *label distracted_feeding *page_break Yves Hébert is as dissolute as ever. It is not long before you are sipping the succulent blood from his throat, but all the while your mind drifts to the mulatto you so recently encountered. Maybe someday you will meet this girl who smelled of death again. Only belatedly do you realize that Yves has passed out and nearly died during your reverie; you had not intended to drink so much. *if (speaks_french = false) and (speaks_english = false) It takes a little while before he comes around, but soon you are back to sharing gossip about local luminaries. *page_break The worldly Yves laughs at your most recent attempts to pronounce some young debutante's name correctly. "${mr} ${surname}, if you are going to stay here much longer, you really must learn the local tongue. How about I teach you?" "You? Teach me French?" "Yes! After all, you want me to stay around New-Orleans for some time yet, no? With a small allowance, I could pay some of the interest that I owe, until the cotton harvest comes in…" You consider the offer. @{excited Though, the thought of ${reference_to_clotho} does pull at you. If you spend weeks and months with Yves, surely this feeling will pass.|} *choice *selectable_if (wealth > 8000) #"Yes. How much will you need?" *set wealth -8000 *set speaks_french true *set learned_french true *set anachronism %+5 *set hebert_debt_cancelled true Yves is overjoyed at the news. The two of you make plans to rendezvous over the next few weeks to get the basics down. You are confident that, in time, it will become second-nature to you. This will certainly make communicating with Jesse and Estefania easier, as you have often heard them conversing in French. #"No, I do not need my food teaching me things!" *set compassion %+5 *set discretion %+5 #"No, I do not have the money to support you right now." *set discretion %-5 *if learned_french *goto hebert_withdraws *else The matter of French aside, you find yourself with the opportunity to ask M. Hébert about ${reference_to_clotho} again. *else It takes a little while before he comes around. *page_break Now that he is properly revived and on the way to recovery, you find yourself with the opportunity—and perhaps inclination—to ask after ${reference_to_clotho}. *label talk_with_hebert_1 *choice #That woman does not interest me. *set discretion %+5 *set compassion %+10 You take your leave of Yves, and return to your haven. *goto hebert_withdraws *if (streetwise > 0) and met_clotho *selectable_if (rationalism >= 40) #"Tell me, does she have power? Did she cast a charm for you?" *set rationalism %+10 "She has cast no spell for me, dear ${given_name}. *selectable_if (rationalism >= 40) #"What dealings do you have with that witch I saw on my way in? Has she cast a spell upon you?" *set rationalism %+5 "She has cast no spell upon me, dear ${given_name}. *selectable_if (rationalism <= 60) #"What trickery has that snake-oil saleswoman ensnared you in?" *set rationalism %-10 "She has laid no trap for me, dear ${given_name}. *if (streetwise = 0) and met_clotho #"And who is this Clotho, whom I saw leaving your residence just before my arrival?" "Have you not heard of her? She is something of a local celebrity." *goto explain_clotho_0 *if met_clotho = false #"Who was that woman I met on the way in here?" *set met_clotho true *set reference_to_clotho "Clotho" "That was Clotho. You may have heard of her; she is something of a local celebrity." *label explain_clotho_0 "No, I'm afraid I haven't." "Well, no matter. She is a voodoo priestess, apt in the ways of charms and divination." *if rationalism <= 50 "What lies does she tell you? And here's something! What does Mme. Hébert think of your associating with this Clotho?" A pained expression crosses his face. "@{speaks_french Mother|[i]Maman[/i]} does not know. And I should like to keep it that way." "Oh! She blackmails you! @{(compassion < 50) Tell me where she lives; I will remedy this for you!"|What are you going to do about her?"} "No no…" he says, shaking his head. "…she does not blackmail me. *else "Tell me, Yves, what does Mme. Hébert think of you associating with this Clotho?" A pained expression crosses his face. "@{speaks_french Mother|[i]Maman[/i]} does not know. And I should like to keep it that way." "Of course, of course…no need for her to know. But tell me, what spells does this priestess cast for you? Do you find yourself lacking in vigor?" "No, she lays no curse upon me. She is, rather, my savior." "Savior? That ${charlatan}?" With that, Yves begins to unburden his soul, telling you of the debts he has incurred at cards and billiards. It seems that Mlle. Clotho is working on his behalf to lessen some of those debts. *set knows_about_debts true *choice *if leave_word = false #Yes, yes, but how can I see her again? *label man_in_the_square "There is a man in the Square, answers to Guidry, with whom you can leave a message for her. That's how I contacted her." "Thank you, dear Yves." With that, you take your leave of M. Hébert. *page_break You return to your haven, your mind spinning with thoughts of the woman dressed as a man. The thought of her disturbs your day's rest, and you find yourself desiring to see her again. Unfortunately, these nightdreams are often accompanied by a certain foreboding…wondering what it means for a vampire to be infatuated, and with a mortal no less. Some weeks@{learned_french —and many lessons—| }later, you take a stroll around Jackson Square. *goto find_clotho *if compassion < 55 *if hebert_debt_cancelled = false #"Do you need me to extend you a loan?" "Oh, could you? I only need five hundred dollars…Spanish or [i]dix[/i] will do." *choice *selectable_if (wealth > 24000) #"That is not a problem. I have access to those funds and can lend them to you." *set compassion %-15 *set wealth -8000 *set hebert_debt_cancelled true "Well, then, I suppose I have no further need of Clotho's services." *choice #"That is good. Best not to deal with such a ${charlatan}." You promise that you will have the money to him in a few days. A quiet few months pass… *page_break Taking your leave of Yves, you return to your haven, your mind spinning with thoughts of the woman dressed as a man. The thought of her disturbs your day's rest, and you find yourself desiring to see her again. Unfortunately, these nightdreams are often accompanied by a certain foreboding…wondering what it means for a vampire to be infatuated, and with a mortal no less. *choice #I try to find this enchantress. *set compassion %-5 It takes some doing, but you soon learn that a man by the name of Guidry is her gatekeeper; he spends his time in Jackson Square. If anyone can tell you where to find her, it would be him. *page_break The very next evening, you rise early and set out for Jackson Square. *goto find_clotho #I brush off these thoughts. I need no distractions from the affairs of the Society. *set discretion %-5 *set independence %+5 *goto hebert_withdraws #"But I wish to see her again…" *goto man_in_the_square #"I do not have assets of that sort just lying around!" *set discretion %-5 *goto decline_to_help #"I think you overestimate my affection for you." *set compassion %+5 *goto decline_to_help #M. Hébert's financial woes are of no interest to me. I bid him good evening. *set compassion %+5 *if leave_word Taking your leave of Yves, you return to your haven, your mind spinning with thoughts of the woman dressed as a man. The thought of her disturbs your day's rest, and you find yourself desiring to see her again. Unfortunately, these nightdreams are often accompanied by a certain foreboding…wondering what it means for a vampire to be infatuated, and with a mortal no less. *choice #I head to Jackson Square. *set compassion %-5 Waking early one evening, you head for Jackson Square. *label find_clotho *if learned_french You feel that your French has improved to the point where you can converse with the locals enough to get your point across. *line_break *line_break *goto find_clotho_1 #I brush off these thoughts. *set discretion %-5 *goto hebert_withdraws *else While the thought of the young woman in a man's clothing dances through your consciousness for a few days, you eventually put her out of your mind. *goto hebert_withdraws *label decline_to_help He looks understandably crestfallen. *set knows_about_creditor true "What is it that Clotho is doing to remedy your debts?" "She is going to speak with my creditor, and encourage him to extend the term of my loan. Considering her reputation, she has some clout with the residents of this city. I had hoped that she might put the fear of the loa into him." "Perhaps I should go and help her to persuade this gentleman." "Yes, you should! There is a man on the Square that answers to Guidry. You can leave word with him. That is how I found her." "Thank you, dear Yves." With that, you take your leave of M. Hébert. *page_break *label find_clotho_1 It is not difficult to locate Guidry, and you are rather surprised that you were not previously acquainted. Like a stone weathered by wind and time into the shape of a man, he sits implacable, watching the business of the Square. For all his watching though, he shows no more care for it than a mountain does those pesky explorers who dare to climb him. *set met_guidry true When you address Guidry, it is a long time before you perceive any response; finally, like a distant explosion at the bottom of a mineshaft, his voice rumbles out. "Watchu wan wit her now?" *temp fry_ahen false *choice #"I am in dire need of assistance; I understand that she's the only one who can save me." *if compassion < 35 His eyes soften. He must believe you. *label guidry_talks "Ah b'lieve she @{speaks_french be up at her place|up at shayzelle}, ovah on Qua'tier, jus' offa Royale. Ah tinks she dere now." "Thank you, my good friend." *goto pursue_clotho *else "Ah don' believe you fuh a moment. You don' need no savin. Least you don' tink you do." *goto guidrys_square #"Listen, old man. Tell me where I can find her, now." *if (charm > 2) or ((strength > 2) or (fighting > 1)) *label intimidate_guidry "Look now, ah don' mean no harm! You finds her up at shayzelle, ovah on Qua'tier, jus' offa Royale. Ah tink she dere now." "Thank you." With that, you rush for the rue de Quartier. *page_break *goto pursue_clotho *else "Jus' who do you tink you talkin to? Mah names Guidry, and dis mah Square. You don come 'ere an' speak to me liek dat." *goto guidrys_square *if (knows_about_creditor) #"She's in danger! You must tell me where she is so I can save her!" Guidry laughs. It's a deep laugh, like rocks tumbling together in a quarry. "Why you tink she done need yo' help? She been heah far longah din you. She doan need ya help, none." *goto guidrys_square #"I need a love-charm. I've heard that she is the individual with whom I should speak." *if (discretion < 45) or ((ethnicity = "african") and (discretion < 65)) "Yous needs some gris-gris? Ah tinks shesun help chyou wit dat." "Excellent. Please…" *goto guidry_talks *else "Ah don' believe you fuh a moment. You don' need no gris-gris." *label guidrys_square *choice #@{fry_ahen Jump him.|Beat it out of him.} *goto attack_guidry #This has been too much trouble already. Leave him be…Clotho can take care of herself. *goto pursue_clotho_fail *if (knows_about_creditor) #Try a different approach. "I'm sorry for my urgency, but I'm very worried for Mlle. Clotho…" *if (charm > 2) or ((charm = 2) and (ethnicity = "african")) *goto guidry_talks *else *set fry_ahen true Guidry waves off your attempts to charm him. "Is too late fuh dat now." *goto guidrys_square *label attack_guidry *if combat > 4 You grasp Guidry by the lapels of his ratty coat, and throw him to the ground, snarling. He looks up at you in terror. *goto intimidate_guidry *else As you move in to grab him, you realize that you cannot defeat him as you are. You would have to let out the beast. If you do, however, you risk not being able to rein it back in before he is dead. But if you don't, you'd best withdraw now. *choice #Let the beast loose. *set discretion %+10 *if willpower > 2 You manage to subdue him, and before baring your fangs and ripping out his throat, you pull yourself together and pause, long enough for the blood to stop pounding in your ears. Once you have regained your composure, you ask him again, slowly, where you can find Clotho. Shaking in terror, he points east, indicating a block on the rue de Quartier. *goto pursue_clotho *else *set compassion %+10 Unfortunately, you are not strong-willed enough to stop yourself from drinking him dry once you have subdued him. The few other people in the Square have run screaming in all directions. ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} will be displeased. With a sense of dread, you return to your haven. A decision must be made shortly. *page_break *goto masquerade_breach #Withdraw. *set discretion %-10 *set compassion %-5 A little worse for wear, you extricate yourself from the snarling Guidry. You never knew a man of his age could be possessed of such fury. *label pursue_clotho_fail *set compassion %+5 Departing from the Square, you decide that whatever you felt for Clotho must have been an illusion. If it was meant to be, would it have been so hard? You return to your haven. *page_break The next evening you awake, still haunted by the daydreams of that woman who smelled of death. A vision of her eyes floats before you, beckoning you forward. *choice #Maybe I can try again to find her. *set avoided_patois true *set discretion %+15 It takes some doing, but eventually you are able to track down some more information about this Clotho. Finally, you catch her in the street. *if met_clotho "Mlle. Clotho, what a pleasure it is to see you again." "${mr} ${surname}, da pleasure is belongin ta me. What can lay-dee Clo-toh do fuh you?" *else *set met_clotho true "You must be Mlle. Clotho. I believe we crossed paths outside the home of M. Hébert? Allow me to introduce myself, I am ${mr} ${surname}." "Wul, itsa pleasure ta' be makin yourn akwaint'nce. What can lay-dee Clo-toh do fuh you?" *if hebert_debt_cancelled "I have been trying to find you so that I could inform you that I have extended M. Hébert the necessary funds to forestall M. Theriot." "Y${es_suh}, Ah has heard it sayd. Yous a good frien ta Massa' Hébert." "Well, perhaps I could be a good friend to you." "Ah is beggin' ya fuhgiv'ness, but Ah don' unda'stan wat chyou is sayin." "Tomorrow evening, you would you care to accompany me on a ride to a plantation of Bayou Saint-Jean? I'm given to understand that it is a lovely place to have a picque-nicque." "Why, dat wud be right propah of yous. An' Ah knows jus' de spot." "Until then, Mlle. Clotho." "Y${es_suh}, until den." At that you say your goodbyes and depart with a spring in your step. *else "I am almost ashamed to admit it, but I have not been able to stop thinking about you since we first met. I hoped that, by coming here this evening, I could persuade you to accompany me on a ride to the Bayou Saint-Jean tomorrow evening. I'm given to understand that it is quite a pleasant place to take in a picque-nique." She is clearly surprised by this overture, but quickly regains her composure. "Well, since yous gone an been so fo'wud, Ah will gos ahead an jus say yes. Ah knows jus' de spot. Ta'marra evenin', den?" "Yes, tomorrow evening." At that you say your goodbyes and depart with a spring in your step. *page_break *goto dates_with_clotho #Let it go. *set discretion %-5 *goto hebert_withdraws *label masquerade_breach You have made a scene in a public square, violating the Rule of Reserve. It is possible that ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} will have mercy on you, but it is also possible that he won't. Both exile and execution are entirely within his rights to pronounce. *label masquerade_breach_1 *if jesse_is_broodmate Of course, since he is your dominus, and @{(new_orleans_quaestor_rapport >= 40) you are on good terms with him, he will probably seek to adjudicate the situation in your favor.|things between you are somewhat sour right now, he may mete a harsher punishment than necessarily deserved.} It is decision time. *choice #I present myself to ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}, throwing myself on his mercy. *if jesse_is_broodmate *if new_orleans_quaestor_rapport >= 40 *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-10 *set jesse_rapport %-10 *set rios_rapport %-5 ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} looks at you with disappointment. You feel yourself crushed under his gaze. The full ramifications of your failure only now flood through your consciousness. "My child, I do not have to tell you what this will mean for us. We will have to spend weeks fixing the damage that you have caused…" His remonstrations continue for what seems like hours, but after a time, you realize that, since he has yet to order you put to death, he probably won't. *if status > 1 *set status 1 @{marshal_killed "And killing a representative of this new government! I don't understand how you could be so stupid!" he continues.|} When ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} finally finishes, you are relieved to see that you are correct. You life has been spared, if your reputation somewhat diminished. You are put to work trying to fix the situation, and find your activities somewhat more curtailed than before. *finish Next *else ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} looks at you with disappointment. You feel yourself crushed under his gaze. The full ramifications of your failure only now flood through your consciousness. "Child, you have disappointed me for the last time. It was foolish of me to turn you, and I suppose I only have myself to blame for that. Unfortunately, you must bear the consequences of my failure of judgment." At that, ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} turns to Jesse and Estefania. "Jesse, take ${given_name} out, and leave this miserable excuse for a vampire for the sun." Jesse and Estefania reach for you, *if combat > 12 and you amazingly are able to keep them at bay. Just long enough for ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} himself to have to intervene. *else and you are powerless to stop them. *goto put_to_the_sun *else *if new_orleans_quaestor_rapport >= 40 ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} looks at you with disappointment. You feel yourself crushed under his gaze. The full ramifications of your failure only now flood through your consciousness. "Your dominus clearly was hasty in granting the gift to you, ${mr} ${surname}. It will take us weeks to undo the damage you have caused. And though it is my right to put you to death, I'm feeling some amount of remorse for whatever fault of this lies with me. @{marshal_killed But further, how you could kill a representative of this new government! I do not understand how you could be so stupid.|} I therefore order you exiled from New-Orleans, upon pain of death. Depart before the sun rises. I do not wish to ever lay eyes upon you again." Bowing and scraping in gratitude, you back out of the quaestor's haven and flee for your wretched existence. *set exiled_from_new_orleans true *set status 0 *set income /2 *set fubar_clotho true *set wealth /4 *set status -1 *page_break Next Chapter *goto_scene karlstein *else ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} looks at you with disappointment. You feel yourself crushed under his gaze. The full ramifications of your failure only now flood through your consciousness. "${mr} ${surname}, you have disappointed me for the last time. It was foolish of me to welcome you to my city, and I suppose I only have myself to blame for that. Unfortunately, you must bear the consequences of my failure of judgment." At that, ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} turns to Jesse and Estefania. "Jesse, take ${given_name} out, and leave this miserable excuse for a vampire for the sun." *if estefanias_protection Jesse moves to seize you, as you look to Estefania for aid. She meets your gaze steadily, watching as Jesse begins dragging you away. After a moment she speaks. "${new_orleans_quaestor_address}, a moment, please." Jesse pauses at Estefania's words. "Yes, Sra. Rios?" *if rios_rapport >= 40 "Please, ${new_orleans_quaestor_address}, ${mr} ${surname} is the last offspring of my broodmate Fernando de Villanueva e Itamaraca. If you end ${him} here and now, so too do you end the line of my broodmate. I beg you to simply order ${his} exile, in the hopes that, in time, ${he} will redeem ${him}self." *else "${new_orleans_quaestor_address}, though there is no love in my heart for this incompentent and pitiful excuse for a vampire, I must acknowledge that ${he} is the offspring of my dear broodmate, Fernando de Villanueva e Itamaraca. As such, I must request that you not his line here, but instead simply exile ${him}, in the hopes that, in time, ${he} will redeem ${him}self." ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} considers this only a moment before nodding his head. "${mr} ${surname}, you owe a great debt to your kinswoman. Hear this, then. You are hereby exiled from New-Orleans, to return only on pain of death. Flee now, lest the dawn see my opinion change." Groveling your thanks, you free yourself from Jesse's grip and flee into the night. *set exiled_from_new_orleans true *set income /2 *set fubar_clotho true *set wealth /4 *set status 0 *page_break Next Chapter *goto_scene karlstein *else Jesse and Estefania reach for you, *if combat > 12 and you amazingly are able to keep them at bay. Just long enough for ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} himself to have to intervene. *goto put_to_the_sun *else and you are powerless to stop them. *label put_to_the_sun *set killed_by_vampire true They drag you into a secluded garden, and anchor you to the ground. Here, among the bougainvillea, you will have your last moments in this world. Surprisingly, your last thoughts are of your grandmother, asking after your sister's lost doll. Your cousin loved that doll. She had it with her always. But not now. It's missing. What was it that you said to her? *choice #"I didn't take it." The sun has risen. #"I'll help you look for it." The sun has risen. #"I'll go get it for you." The sun has risen. #"I threw it in the river." The sun has risen. *page_break You Are Dead *goto_scene scoring #I flee the city. *if jesse_is_broodmate *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-50 *set income /2 *set wealth /4 *set anachronism %+10 You pack up some of your things, but are forced to leave many things behind. But you are immortal, right? Maybe the things that remind you of where you have been actually hold you back? Before the sun has risen you have fled the city. *else *if sire_alive *set sire_rapport %-20 *set income /2 *set wealth /4 *set anachronism %+10 You pack up some of your things, but are forced to leave many things behind. But you are immortal, right? Maybe abandoning the things that remind you of where you have been actually hold you back? You book passage on a steamer, and head upriver. *set need_to_be_told_about_exile true *set exiled_from_new_orleans true *set fubar_clotho true *set status 0 *page_break Next Chapter *goto_scene karlstein *label pursue_clotho *set met_clotho true Slipping up the steps to Clotho's [i]garçonnière,[/i] you find the door ajar. Pushing the door open ever so slightly, you see a slight figure, wrapped in blankets and with bound wrists exposed, leaning against the wall. The apartment is a riot of plants and herbs—the smells assault your nose—as well as trinkets, jars, and other accoutrements of her trade. Through an open French door into a second room, you spy a lantern flickering on a short wick as someone rummages through Clotho's things. *if perception > 2 As you ponder the scene, you reach out with your mind and realize that the bound figure is not Clotho. What is going on here? Reaching out your mind again, you sense that the figure in other room, rummaging around, is, in fact, Clotho. Opening the door wide, you announce your presence: *if knows_about_creditor "Pardon my intrusion, but I thought you might be in need of my assistance. Clearly, I was wrong in this. Is that M. Theriot you have there?" Clotho starts at the sound of your voice. Turning, she glares at you. "What do you know of me and my business?" "Dear Yves told me about the favor that you are doing for him. *if hebert_debt_cancelled I thought you might like to know that the matter has been resolved. There is no need to put yourself out further." "Resolved?" "Yes, I have lent Yves the money that he needs." "Then I suppose I should let M. Theriot go free. And I was just getting accustomed to him as being part of the decor. I suppose now I shall simply have to leave out a piece of meat if I wish to see maggots dancing." "Your [i]patois[/i]…you are speaking like me." "Y${es_suh}. Who dey gonna buy dem charms from? Da one dat tawks liek you, or da one dat tawks like me-ah? Ah is lay-dee Clo-toh, and deys a gonna listen to me-ah." "It's all an act?" "Y${es_suh}, Ah s'pose yous could say dat." *goto parting_from_clotho *else I thought you might like some company when you went to confront M. Theriot, as I thought confronting him would be dangerous. But it seems you have the matter well in hand." "That I do." "Perhaps I should stay, all the same, to make sure you come to no harm?" "That is very kind of you, but I think I shall be fine." "Your [i]patois[/i]…you are speaking like me." "Y${es_suh}. Who dey gonna buy dem charms from? Da one dat tawks liek you, or da one dat tawks like me-ah? Ah is lay-dee Clo-toh, and deys a gonna listen to me-ah. Now, if you would be so kind, I need to convince M. Theriot to extend the terms of Yves's loan." *goto parting_from_clotho *else "Pardon my intrusion, but I saw you door open and thought I'd let myself in." "${mr} ${surname}, this is really not the time or the place…" "Yes, well, I can see that. Do you often keep strange men trundled up on your floor?" "He's a creditor of Yves, a creditor who has called in the debt. I am simply seeking to encourage this M. Theriot to reconsider the terms of the loan." "Yes, well, I was wondering if you might accompany me on a jaunt to the Bayou Saint-Jean tomorrow evening?" It seems that M. Theriot has finally woken and is kicking on the floor—whether to try to free himself or to garner your sympathy is unclear. Her eyes going back and forth between the two of you, Clotho takes a moment to reply. "Why, yes, that would be lovely. And I know just the place." "Excellent. I shall come round a little after sunset?" Taking a piece of rope, Clotho tries to catch Theriot's legs and tie them up, to protect the both of you from his errant blows. "Yes, well, clearly you know where I live now." "Tell me, your [i]patois[/i]…" "An affectation for the clients. They like the idea that they are patronizing an uneducated woman, gifted by the other world." "Yes, I understand. And, since it seems you have everything under control here, well then, I shall take my leave until tomorrow." "Yes, until then." You return to your haven, leaving Clotho to deal with the newly-immobilized creditor. *page_break *goto dates_with_clotho *else You feel yourself flush with emotion and confusion: who is this intruder? Is Clotho alright? What is going on here? You see several clear courses of action before you. *choice #I slip inside, and try to subdue the person in the other room. Then I can free Clotho. *if stealth > 1 With a solid blow, you knock the rummaging individual the ground. Only when you hear her cry of surprise, pain, and fear do you realize that it is Clotho that is now on the ground before you. But who is in the other room? *if knows_about_creditor Confused, you rush to her side. *label clothos_eyes_open Her eyes flutter and she's having trouble focusing on you. *page_break Several Minutes Pass "What have you done?" she demands, as soon as she can form the words. "I…I thought M. Theriot had bound you…I was trying to help." "Where is he? Did you let him go?" "He's still here. Once I saw that it was you…" She rubs her head where you struck her. "Would you be so kind as to fetch me some water? Then we can go speak with M. Theriot." *if hebert_debt_cancelled "Actually, I came to tell you that I have agreed to loan M. Hébert the necessary funds. There is no further need for you to speak with M. Theriot." "You have loaned him the money? That is very generous of you." "When a friend is in need…" "All the same, it is generous." After a moments reflection, Clotho glances at the still bound M. Theriot. "And what shall we do with this one?" "I suppose we must send him home." "That is unfortunate…I was looking forward to putting the fear of Damballah into him." The two of you free M. Theriot, and with a few words of warning, send him on his way. The matter concluded, you pause for a moment before saying your goodbyes. *if excited That feeling of excitement surges up in you again. Can you really let this be goodbye? *goto parting_from_clotho *else Nodding, you stand and fetch her some water. A little while later, she says that she is ready to speak with her captive. *page_break *goto deal_with_theriot *else At this moment, the trussed man spits the gag from his mouth. "Please, you have to help me! She's a madwoman!" "A…madwoman?" "Look at me! She's got me tied up in her quarters. What do you think she is about to do to me?" "Who are you?" "Simon Theriot. Please, let me go!" You look from Clotho, slumped on the ground, to Simon. *choice #I free Simon. "Thank you," he says, rubbing his wrists. "Now, let us call the constable, and see this @{speaks_french mongrel|[i]putain[/i]} dealt with." You start to interrupt, but the die is already cast. In the quiet and the dark, Simon's voice carries over the rooftops and echoes off the gables. Before long, a constable arrives. *goto constable_arrives #I rush to Clotho's side. Cupping her face in your hands, you apologize profusely. *goto clothos_eyes_open #I call for the constable. In the quiet and the dark, your voice carries over the rooftops and echoes off the gables. Your side chosen, you untie Simon. He thanks you for your aid, standing just as a constable arrives. *label constable_arrives *set laborvscapital %-5 The constable thinks nothing of the fact that you are two interlopers who have assaulted a woman in her own home. When Simon points to his now-discarded bindings, the constable asks no further questions and hauls Clotho away. Before you part ways, Simon notes that if you ever need a loan, he would be happy to extend you credit. *goto hebert_withdraws *else The door creaks open loudly as you try to make your way inside. The person in the other room turns around violently, and lengthens the wick on the lantern, flooding the apartment with light. "Who's there?" a woman's voice demands. "I'm looking for Clotho," you reply, edging towards the now struggling figure on the ground. "Well, you've found her," the voice states, as Clotho appears—lantern in hand—in the doorway to the other room. *goto surprised_by_clotho #I slip inside, and free the bound figure. You open the door as quietly as possible, and edge closer to the figure. The knot is simple enough to undo. Consumed with your desire to save Clotho, you begin pulling the blankets back as quickly as possible. In the midst of this, however, you suddenly find the room you are in flooded by the lantern's light. "What are you doing?" A woman's voice demands from the doorway. Turning, you see Clotho standing there, staring at you, lantern in hand. Turning back to the figure, you are startled to see a slender man whose fist is in the midst of connecting with the squishy parts of your face. You are knocked onto your back, blood spouting from your nose. Through the haze of pain, you see the man throw himself towards the door. Soon, Clotho is standing over you, the light illuminating your face. Keeping your nose hidden, you draw upon the power of your immortality to heal the broken bones. "I'll ask you again. What are you doing here?" "I was coming to help…I thought that was you…" "Well, it wasn't. Do you know how hard it was for me to get him tied up like that? Now, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me find him?" *choice #"Of course! Right away!" Together, the two of you make your way to the home of M. Theriot; his place of residence is no secret. *if streetwise > 0 With a bit of skulduggery, you manage to get the door of his [i]garçonnière[/i] open. There, you are able to lie in wait for his return. *elseif (streetwise = 0) and (shapeshifting > 4) Leaving Clotho on the porch, you round the building and melt into a fine mist. Slipping back up the stairs, you float through the cracks in the floorboards and reform on the other side of the door. At this point, you open the door and admit Clotho to M. Theriot's [i]garçonnière[/i]. There, the two of you are able to lie in wait for his return. *else With a surprising bit of skulduggery, Clotho is able to get the door of the [i]garçonnière[/i] open. There, the two of you are able to lie in wait for his return. Once he closes the door behind himself, it is a simple matter to wait a few moments more for him to get further into the room. Cornering him, the two of you are able to quickly subdue him again. Clotho breathes heavily as the two of you stand over M. Theriot's bound body, waiting for him to cease his thrashing and admit defeat. *goto deal_with_theriot *if hebert_debt_cancelled #"There is no need to pursue M. Theriot. I have loaned M. Hébert the necessary funds." *goto inform_clotho_debt_cancelled #"You are on your own, Mademoiselle." I've had enough of this woman's affairs. "Well, thank you for ruining my evening. Good night." With that dismissal, you close the door behind you. You retire to your haven to nurse your wounded pride. *goto hebert_withdraws #I throw open the door, and loudly demand to know what is going on here. *set discretion %+3 "What is going on here!" you intone as you throw open the door to the apartment. "What do you mean, what is going on here!" A woman's voice replies from the other room. Moments later, Clotho is standing before you, lantern in hand. The figure still struggles on the floor. *goto surprised_by_clotho *selectable_if (discretion < 80) #Whatever Clotho is involved with, she is clearly in over her head. By which I mean, I don't want to get dragged down with her. I shut the door and walk away. *set discretion %-10 You pull the door to and quickly put as much distance between you as possible. Over the next few nights, however, you find your thoughts often turning to the thought of her eyes staring back out at you in the dark. *choice #I try to call on her, now that I know where she lives. Hopefully she will be in one piece. Much to your delight, when you call on her a few nights later, she is in one piece. In fact, whatever you witnessed through the crack in her door has left her entirely unscathed. She expresses some surprise at your pursuit of her, but eventually consents to a twilight outing to a plantation on the Bayou Saint-Jean. She suggests the location, as it is one she is familiar with. *set avoided_patois true *goto dates_with_clotho #I push her out of my mind. No good can come of this infatuation. *set discretion %-5 *goto hebert_withdraws *label surprised_by_clotho *set theriot_location "clotho" You look in some amount of shock back and forth between Clotho and the figure. "But…who is that?" "And how is that any business of yours?" *if knows_about_creditor "Look, I thought you were in peril, going off to see M. Hébert's creditor in the middle of the night. I came here to help you." "As you can see, M. Theriot was no danger to me. And what does it matter to you, anyway?" Among all the other things swirling through your head at the moment, some part of your brain notes that her [i]patois[/i] has vanished. *if knows_about_creditor = false You stiffen. "I suppose that it's not." "Do you have business with me, then?" "No…I simply wished to see you again." "Do you normally enter the homes of people whom you have only met once, and even then but in passing?" You are having trouble keeping up with Clotho. Why is she so hostile to your appearance? Where is her [i]patois[/i]? And while you do have a tendency to enter people's homes unbidden, you recognize that now is not the time to admit to it. *label surprised_by_clotho_1 *choice *if (avoided_patois = false) #"What happened to your [i]patois?[/i]" *if ethnicity != "african" "Would you hire a Voodoo priestess who spoke like you?" "No…no, I suppose not." *if learned_french "It is good to see that you are learning our tongue, though." "Thank you," you blush at the complement. *comment endif "Now, what are you doing in my quarters?" *goto surprised_by_clotho_1 *else "Much like you, I can speak as I need to. If a paying customer wanna see da loa lay-dee to-a tawk liek dis, Ah gives it him." *if learned_french "Much like me?" "Yes…I can hear that you are still learning our tongue, though." "I am trying," you reply. "Now, what are you doing in my home?" *goto surprised_by_clotho_1 #"Nothing. I clearly misjudged the situation." "Good evening to you, then," she says, as you close the door behind you. You retire to your haven. *goto hebert_withdraws *if (knows_about_creditor) #"I am simply looking after the affairs of M. Hébert. I thought it best for you to have some company while you went to see M. Theriot." *set compassion %+5 "I am sure that he will be elated to know he has such a concerned friend. Now, if you will excuse me, M. Theriot and I were about to discuss M. Hébert's debts." *choice #"Well, I can see that you have this well in hand. Perhaps I shall excuse myself…" Whatever this woman is up to, you want no part of it…and certainly no part of her! "Yes. Good night to you." With that, you retire to your haven. *page_break The next evening, you find that you cannot rid yourself of thoughts of that woman. *goto hebert_withdraws #"You wouldn't mind if I remained, would you? I am so anxious to clear the air about this matter." And maybe afterwards you can arrange to be alone with her… "I suppose not. Here, help me untie him." The two of you unwrap M. Theriot. Near to her again, Clotho's smell seeps through your dead pores and intoxicates your soul. *set clotho_subdues_theriot true *goto deal_with_theriot *if hebert_debt_cancelled #"I have come to inform you that I will tender the needed monies to M. Hébert by tomorrow, so there is no need to solicit an extension." *goto inform_clotho_debt_cancelled #"I have not been able to stop thinking about you since we met outside the home of M. Hébert. I simply had to see you again." *set compassion %-5 You hypothesize that she is not often surprised. Therefore, it is with some pleasure that you see her struck dumb for a few moments. "I…I don't know what to say." "Say that you feel something too." At this, the figure on the floor kicks out violently. "I will say nothing of the sort, not as long as things remain to be done regarding M. Theriot. Here, help me free him." The two of you unhood M. Theriot. Near to her again, Clotho's musk seeps through your dead pores and intoxicates your soul. *set clotho_subdues_theriot true *goto deal_with_theriot *if (knows_about_creditor = false) #"Interrupting some nefarious scheme, apparently." I call for a constable. *set exposure +1 *set laborvscapital %-5 You shout for the constabulary. In the quiet and the dark, your voice echoes over the rooftops. "Nefarious?" she replies. The two of you quarrel for a time, long enough for a constable to arrive. When he sees the bound and gagged white man on the floor, he blows his whistle for reinforcements, and falls to his knees to untie the bonds. You stand, smugly watching Clotho trying to keep the matter quiet. When the constable begins asking for your name and address, however, the folly of your actions strikes you. As the primary witness to the affair, you will be called to testify at trial. You cannot testify. Pleading the call of nature, you excuse yourself, and flee into the night. *goto hebert_withdraws *label inform_clotho_debt_cancelled "You must be a good friend to M. Hébert to come to his aid in his hour of need." "I could not stand by and see him ruined." "I feel as though I should become better acquainted with one who keeps their friends so close to their heart." Now seems like a good moment to say your goodbyes. @{excited But, at the same time, that feeling of excitement surges up in you again. Is she saying that she wishes to see you again?|} How do you reply? *goto parting_from_clotho *label deal_with_theriot @{clotho_subdues_theriot As you work, you find time to ask Clotho how she got M. Theriot like this. "I am a priestess of the loa. Don't you think I can get a man to do what I want—drink what I want him to drink—when I need to?" You nod in appreciation.|} Coming around to his condition, Theriot stares at the two of you, eyes glinting with hatred. Removing the cotton from his ears, Clotho's [i]patois[/i] suddenly returns. "Nowa then. We wuz a talkin' 'bout how yous wuz gunna give M. Hébert some moh time wit' his loan, wuzn't we?" "You stupid witch, you think I'm going to do anything for you?" @{(discretion > 50) Reflexively, you kick Theriot in the groin. He doubles over in pain. You look at Clotho sheepishly, trying to apologize for your outburst. Surprisingly, she does not seem angry in the least. Perhaps she seems…flattered?|You roll your eyes at the insult; he is trying to provoke a careless response. You will not take the bait.} "Ah tinks you iz goin' do dis fo' me. Elsen mah lil' frien' dere gonna get real frien'ly wit chyou." At this, Clotho pulls out a small doll and a knife. Reaching down, she cuts a lock from the hair of M. Theriot. Returning the knife to somewhere on her body, she then pulls out a needle and thread, and begins sewing the severed hair to the head of the doll. M. Theriot's eyes begin to go wide with fear. "Now, you knows 'bout dis here babydoll. Issa got your eyen an' your 'air an' it look jus' liek you. Wa tchyou wanna bet it goin' tah work when ahsa gotta cast mah hexes on you?" M. Theriot seems genuinely afraid. At this point, you chime in, "M. Hébert just needs another six months, long enough for the cotton harvest to come in. Then he'll be able to pay you back. Do we have a deal?" M. Theriot nods in agreement. "Yous a good'un, no matta wat yo mamma say." Both you and M. Theriot look at Clotho at that. Seeing your stares, she explains: "We plays de cahds sometime. She talk bout 'im an' 'is sistern 'til she gone red in da face." "Whatever the case, I bid you adieu, M. Theriot." @{(theriot_location = "clotho") With that, Clotho expels M. Theriot from her quarters. You can hear him cursing her name as he stumbles to the ground floor, struggling with the last of his bonds. The two of you share a secret smile at these invectives.|With that, you and Clotho adjourn outside.} *page_break "You must excuse me, lady Clotho, but I need my rest." "I as well." *label parting_from_clotho *temp connection false *choice *selectable_if (compassion <= 65) #@{(background <= 2) I want to see Clotho again…but I am unsure how to do it.|I propose a romantic outing with this intriguing young lady: "Perhaps tomorrow you would do me the honor of accompanying me on a ride to my friend's plantation on Bayou Saint-Jean?"} *if background <= 2 Clotho smiles as you stumble over your words. *else "Why, I would be most pleased by that." *page_break *goto dates_with_clotho #"It has been a pleasure. Perhaps I shall see you again some day." *set discretion %-5 "And I you," she says with a smile. Your parting is made with a pang of regret that you were not more forward. You wake up the next evening with that cloying scent of death that clung to Clotho filling your nostrils. The thought of her will not leave your consciousness as you set out to feed for the evening. Even satiated, your thoughts still turn to her. Who is this woman that occupies your thoughts so? *choice *selectable_if (compassion <= 60) #I want to try and call on Clotho. I have…feelings for her. Clotho is somewhat surprised by your appearance one evening a few nights later, but she quickly cheers to your presence. *if background > 2 When she realizes your intention—an outing to the Bayou Saint-Jean—she graciously accepts *goto dates_with_clotho #I am not personally interested in Clotho—but she could prove a useful connection. *set shepherd_credentials %-5 *set discretion %+5 *set connection true You see Clotho once or twice more—she has insight into several of the wealthier members of New-Orleans society which she is willing to trade for coin—but your familiarity progresses no further. #The politics of the Society occupy too much of my time to bother with this mortal. I push her out of my mind. *set compassion %+5 *set independence %+5 *goto resolve_clotho_and_yves #"Well, good night to you, then." I want nothing more to do with this woman. "And to you." With that, you retire to your haven. *label resolve_clotho_and_yves @{connection During that time,|The next few months pass uneventfully.} M. Hébert's harvest comes in and he is able to *if hebert_debt_cancelled *set wealth +4000 repay you some of what you lent him. It seems to you that, in general, this whole cotton speculation may be a losing proposition. *else pay off M. Theriot. Most of the way, anyway. Enough for him to remain in New-Orleans for some years yet. @{connection And then the day comes that you|You} do not see Clotho again. You hear later that she was poisoned, and her name is quickly forgotten by the inhabitants of the city as Marie Laveau rises to local notoriety. @{(discretion > 50) You suppose this will happen many times in your existence: mortals will come and go, while you endure for night after night.|} *set heard_of_laveau true A quiet year passes. *finish Next *label dates_with_clotho *if priest The moon illuminates your drive to the plantation; once there, you have a lovely late night picque-nicque on Bayou Saint-Jean. While there, though, she points to your collar, as though to ask why she is enjoying an indiscreet repast with a man who has taken a vow of celibacy. *choice #"I am simply looking after your immortal soul, my dear." She laughs. "Is that what you are looking after, Father?" she says as bends down provocatively to gather her things. #"Just because I have taken an oath, it does not mean that I am dead." She laughs. "It is good to know that there is still a man under that cassock, Father." "You have no idea." #"That vow of celibacy? It is more of a guideline than a requirement." She laughs. "That is good to hear, dear ${given_name}, as I have made no such vows myself. And I hope that you have no intention of keeping yours." *gosub desc_pitot At the end of the evening, she offers you a chaste kiss on the cheek. You crave more. You soon arrange another outing, and then another. More and more you find yourself looking forward to those evenings that you will spend together. *elseif background <= 2 Courting someone as a free individual is quite different than the rituals you observed while you were enslaved. On the plantation, courting, such as it was, consisted mosty of small kindnesses: a shared corncake under the stars, a bit of blackstrap molasses kept hidden for a special occasion, a roof patched or a sock mended. Small moments such as these were eternities where masters, mistresses, and overseers shrunk far enough away that, for a few minutes, you could almost pretend that they didn't exist. Not that they ever really left you. The possibility of being raped, beaten, or sold off at any moment is not a malice that can just be put aside, no matter how idyllic the circumstances. And so the courting customs of free people are foreign to you. Yet, Clotho understands. She takes your hand with care and shows you the way. *elseif male The moon illuminates your drive to the plantation; once there, you have a lovely late night picque-nicque on Bayou Saint-Jean. *gosub desc_pitot Aftewards, the two of you spend increasing amounts of time with each other. With no one to gainsay your affair, there is little to impede your courtship. At the end of the evening, she offers you a chaste kiss on the cheek. You crave more. You soon arrange another outing, and then another. More and more you find yourself looking forward to those evenings that you will spend together. *else It is somewhat awkward, courting a woman. Courting someone at all, in fact, is almost entirely new to you; during your mortal years, it was men who courted you. You try to apply what you have learned on those occasions when you have hunted women, but that always ended with your feeding from them. *if (ethnicity != "german") and (compassion > 60) And, after feeding, you would often find yourself "borrowing" some of their most delightful jewelry. *set wealth +1000 In this instance, you are seeking to genuinely woo this woman, and you find yourself falling in love with her in return. Clotho herself does not seem nearly as unaccustomed to such a pairing as you are. If anything, she guides you gently through the steps of the courtship, sometimes filling in the words when you find yourself at a loss. On at least one occasion, she advises you to stop trying to be so masculine…to just be yourself. You do your best not to smile at the thought that she confuses your hunger for her blood with a hunger for her sex. The two of you spend increasing amounts of time with each other. With no one to gainsay your affair, there is little to impede your courtship. During this time, the two of you are able to become better acquainted. More and more you find yourself looking forward to those evenings that you will spend together. *page_break *temp bought_goat false *temp goat_available false *if (ethnicity = "choctaw") or ((ethnicity = "african") or ((ethnicity = "irish") or ((ethnicity = "scotch") or (ethnicity = "spanish")))) *set goat_available true *temp nearly_stopped false *if learned_french or avoided_patois Soon, you begin to notice that Clotho has two distinct ways of speaking; when she is with you, in private, she mimics your elocution. But when she is among the public—her potential clients—she speaks in the creole [i]patois[/i] of the city. When you ask her about this, she points out that she is a Voodoo priestess and that her clients do not expect—in fact, would not want—for her to be formally educated. It occurs to you one evening that maybe you should bring Clotho a gift of some sort…you know, to clarify your intentions. *temp trumpet false *choice #My intentions? My intentions are to use her until she offers nothing more of value to me. *set shepherd_credentials %-5 *set discretion %+5 *set trumpet true Your evenings together certainly don't diminish, despite the lack of confirmation by trinkets. She does, however, sense your distance…and presses you for your intentions. You make the standard professions of affection—you feel you must in order to maintain her confidence—but she clearly does not believe you. *goto by_the_water #I feel an impending doom. I must push Clotho away before my condition brings her to ruin. It's been several nights since you last saw Clotho when you hear a knock at the door. Opening it, you see Clotho standing there. You can see the mixture of relief and anger on her face: relief that you are alright, and anger at the same. "Where have you been?" "I've been…busy." "And you don't even have time to write me a note and tell me so?" "No, I haven't." "You chase me all around town, then once I relent, you take me around on your arm…and then you just disappear?" *choice #Enough of this tripe. I kill her. *set compassion %+20 *set discretion %+10 "Please come inside. We can talk about it better there." Accepting your proffered hand, she crosses the threshold to your abode. Within a few minutes, you are licking your lips over her limp corpse. A pity she was so stubborn. @{taste_for_vampire_blood |She really did have the sweetest blood you'd ever tasted.} You set about taking care of the body. These mortals can be so inconvenient sometimes. *finish Next #"You do not understand the things with which you are meddling. Go now, and do not return!" *set compassion %-5 *set discretion %+5 Tears begin to well up in her eyes. "I do not understand, dear ${given_name}. What things? Do I meddle with your heart? Is that what you fear?" "No…I…" "Whatever it is, I accept it. I accept you." "But…" "Please. My family is having a dinner Sunday evening. Come if you have the courage." Turning, she runs from your front steps. *choice #I attend the dinner. *set nearly_stopped true *goto dinner #I do not attend the dinner. You do not hear from Clotho again. *finish Next #"You bore me. I am tired of your prattle." With that, I slam the door in her face. *set compassion %+10 *set discretion %-10 You do not hear from Clotho again. *finish Next #"You bore me. I am tired of your prattle." I must be cruel to drive her away, lest I bring her to ruin. *set compassion %-15 *set discretion %-20 "I think you are lying to me, dear ${given_name}, and I do not know why. Please, my family his having a dinner Sunday evening. I hope that you will come." "I cannot be there." "Let go of whatever fears hold you back. The only thing that can come between us is you or me." With that, she takes her leave of you. *choice #I attend the dinner. *set nearly_stopped true *goto dinner #I do not attend the dinner. You do not hear from Clotho again. *finish Next #I bring her flowers. *set flowers_from_babineaux true "Oh, how thoughtful!" She exclaims upon seeing the bundle of flowers you bear. Only once she relieves you of them are you able to take a breath, and inhale the scent of other flowers…looking around her apartment, you are stunned by the number of bouquets that are taking up every available surface, each one more ostentatious than the last. Seeing your expression, she waves her hands in dismissal, "Oh, M. Babineaux was simply expressing his gratitude." *goto by_the_water #I bring her jewelry. What kind of jewelry? *choice #A trinket of no real value. It's more the thought that counts. *set wealth -50 You arrive at Clotho's [i]garçonnière[/i], clutching her trinket in your hands. When she opens the door, you present her with the gift. She oohs and aahs over it, but seems to be going through motions she has practiced before. Before the two of you step out for the evening, she opens a drawer to her bureau and drops the trinket inside; you try not to let your heart sink as you glimpse what must be a fortune in jewels therein reflecting the candlelight. *goto by_the_water *selectable_if (wealth > 1000) #Some pearl earrings. *set wealth -1000 You arrive at Clotho's [i]garçonnière[/i], clutching her earrings in your hands. When she opens the door, you present her with the gift. She oohs and aahs over it, but seems to be going through motions she has practiced before. Before the two of you step out for the evening, she opens a drawer to her bureau and drops them inside; you try not to let your heart sink as you glimpse what must be a fortune in jewels therein reflecting the candlelight. *goto by_the_water *selectable_if (wealth > 5000) #A necklace. *set wealth -5000 You arrive at Clotho's [i]garçonnière[/i], clutching her necklace in your hands. When she opens the door, you present her with the gift. She oohs and aahs over it, but seems to be going through motions she has practiced before. Before the two of you step out for the evening, she opens a drawer to her bureau and drops the necklace inside; you try not to let your heart sink as you glimpse what must be a fortune in jewels therein reflecting the candlelight. *goto by_the_water *selectable_if (wealth > 10000) #A ring. *set wealth -10000 You arrive at Clotho's [i]garçonnière[/i], clutching her ring in your hands. When she opens the door, you present her with the gift. She oohs and aahs over it, but seems to be going through motions she has practiced before. Before the two of you step out for the evening, she opens a drawer to her bureau and drops the ring inside; you try not to let your heart sink as you glimpse what must be a fortune in jewels therein reflecting the candlelight. *goto by_the_water *if goat_available #I buy her a goat. Whether she uses it in one of her rituals, or just for the milk…they're just so useful. *set wealth -500 *set bought_goat true Clotho does not try to hide her surprise and amusement when you arrive at her doorstep, tugging a nannygoat behind you. After the immediate surprise passes, she laughs and throws her arms around your neck, kissing you. "I can't imagine a more perfect gift, my dear." *goto by_the_water #I don't think that Clotho wants any gifts. *set discretion %+5 *set compassion %-10 The choice of someone supremely self-confident. Perhaps you are right. The evenings together certainly don't diminish, despite the lack of confirmation by trinkets. *goto by_the_water *label by_the_water You suggest a walk down by the water. *page_break *if trumpet *set income +3 *if trumpet = false *set income +5 The two of you take a walk down to the levee. Finding a rock to sit upon, the two of you watch the boats bobbing in the water, discussing some of the local news. Clotho's insights into the flow of information and goods has certainly improved your grasp of the power dynamics of the city. *if hebert_debt_cancelled *set wealth +4000 "Did you know that Yves managed to repay me?" "I did." "Well, not all of it. About half." "I know." "Do you know everything that transpires in this city?" "That is for me to know…" she begins, with a sly grin. *if trumpet = false You look forward to these conversations, as they are an opportunity to let your guard down a little, as here your words will not travel instantaneously to the ears of ${new_orleans_quaestor_address}. The confidences that you share thrill you. You have listened to performers sing songs of love and desire, but never did you imagine it could be like this. Sitting there, watching the stars wheel above, you find yourself wishing that this night would never end. Unfortunately, the dawn does approach. Clotho yawns beside you and you apologize for keeping her out so late again. *if trumpet *goto ceremony On the return to her quarters, she pauses to broach a weighty topic: while her parents are long-since dead and buried, she does have an extended family. Apparently, they want to meet you and they are hosting a dinner in your honor this Sunday evening. So far, you have managed to avoid the question of eating with Clotho, disappearing as you do before daybreak, and explaining that you'd dined before joining her in the evenings. But now the question is somewhat different. As you learned from ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}, eating and drinking is not for your kind. *choice #"I am on a special diet for health reasons. But I shall join you for the pleasure of your company." *goto dinner #"I am on a special diet for health reasons, and I must decline the invitation, lest the food tempt me to break my fast." *goto ceremony #"I would be happy to attend your [i]soirée[/i]." *goto dinner #"My presence is required out of the city that evening, but I do wish that I could attend." *goto ceremony *label dinner *if nearly_stopped When you arrive at the dinner, Clotho's face lights up. She rushes to embrace you, throwing any concerns she may have about propriety to the wind. You embrace her for longer than is proper, before finally the attention of the entire family is upon you. With a cough, the two of you separate, and she sets about introducing you to her family. They are clearly taking stock of you, and begin plying you with questions. You wonder if you would not rather be on trial for murder, after the way her feminine kinfolk pick apart your answers in an attempt to understand your familial conditions. *elseif (nearly_stopped = false) and male The whole family is thrilled to meet Clotho's new friend. You actually prefer the term friend, as it seems that Clotho has had—perhaps still has—many suitors, but few have had the privilege of meeting her family. You wonder if you would not rather be on trial for murder, after the way her feminine kinfolk pick apart your answers in an attempt to understand your financial and familial situation. *else The whole family is thrilled to meet Clotho's new friend. Of course, that means you have to endure the continual interrogation of Clotho on the matter of her suitors, whose numbers seem to be legion. Every woman in Clotho's family has a different opinion as to which suit she should accept (of course, many of these suits are not for marriage, but rather some sort of formal concubinage; but to be the mistress of Governor Claiborne, for example, would bring much prestige to the family). Though Clotho does her best to avoid the matter, it is all they seem interested in discussing. The family itself is something of a rainbow of colors and shapes. Most of them are gens de couleur libres, but some of the family are favored slaves given leave by their owners for the afternoon and evening (surely, having Clotho as a cousin does nothing to hinder such freedoms). Some you would take for Europeans if you saw them on the street, while others would not raise your eyebrow were they in the leathers of a Choctaw or the fetters of a slave. Clotho makes sure to introduce you to her only sibling and closest friend, Terpsichore. They call her "Chicory"; she is pretty like her half-sister, but her presence is easily overshadowed by your love. @{male |Chicory seems to understand the nature of your relationship with Clotho better than the rest of the family. While she may not approve, it does not stop her from embracing you warmly.} Finally, the family sits down to the meal. *if priest They insist that you perform the blessing of the meal. Standing at the head of the table, you invoke a blessing on the food before you that moves several of the women to tears. *goto the_meal *elseif male You are invited to bless the meal. *choice #I do the best that I can. *set rationalism %+10 *if charm > 2 When you stand, the room falls silent. Your words of blessing fill the space, bringing tears to the eyes of some of the older listeners. *goto the_meal *if charm = 2 You do an acceptable job with your invocation. *goto the_meal *else You do your best to say something coherent, but it mostly comes out as a jumble. The family's opinion of you clearly diminishes. *goto the_meal *selectable_if (rationalism < 60) #I decline the offer; I do not believe in such nonsense, and will not pretend to. *set rationalism %-10 *goto uncles_blessing *selectable_if (rationalism > 40) #I decline the offer; I am not fit to make such an invocation. *set rationalism %+20 *goto uncles_blessing *else Clotho's uncle stands to bless the meal. *label uncles_blessing Clotho's uncle's blessing is surprisingly ecumenical—or syncretic, rather. Calling on Damballa, the Virgin Mary and Hushtahli, he prays that the food before him be blessed and that it fill the bodies and souls of those who consume it. @{(rationalism > 50) You do your best not to flinch at the thought that your soul will find no sustenance here.|You do your best not to scoff at the very idea of a soul.} *label the_meal Despite protests to the contrary, you find the space before you filled with food. The sight and the smell of it turns your stomach. Clotho's family is clearly observing you, waiting to see what you think of their cuisine. Looking at the food, you can foresee no good coming of attempting to eat it. But how can you disappoint these people? *choice #I have to decline. *set compassion %+5 Clotho's family is clearly offended at your refusal to partake of their offering. Chicory, out of loyalty to her sister, does her best to distract their attention, but you are the object of a series of dirty looks throughout the meal. You resist the urge to end these glares by baring your fangs and hissing. That would most likely not be looked upon with favor by Clotho. That does not stop you from fantasizing about the look of terror such a thing would elicit. *page_break *goto dinner_ends #I try to eat. *set compassion %-10 *set discretion %+10 *if willpower > 2 It takes an extraordinary effort of will, but you manage to swallow small bites of the food. It tastes like ashes, and gives you no pleasure whatsoever. The family looks on with approval, though, as you make some progress on your plate. Once the meal is concluded, you excuse yourself to the privy and retch until your stomach is empty again. *page_break *goto dinner_ends *else You put the food into your mouth, but chew it as you might, you cannot bring yourself to swallow. You run outside and vomit into street. "What's wrong?" Clotho ask, suddenly beside you. "I'm not feeling well," you say, keeping her at a distance, hoping she does not see the blood that came up with the food. "Come, you should lie down…" you let her guide you inside, where you can wait out the conclusion of the meal. *page_break *goto dinner_ends *label dinner_ends The evening grows late. You sense that things are winding down, and move to depart with Clotho. Her family bids you adieu, and watches as the two of you fade into the night. When you arrive back at her [i]garçonnière[/i], she invites you upstairs. This is clearly an invitation to stay until the dawn. *choice #It is improper for me to remain alone in the home of a woman I am courting. *set discretion %-20 *if priest "It seems that collar carries more weight than I realized," she observes. "There is much I have yet to explain, my love. But soon enough, everything will be made clear." *page_break *goto ceremony *else Clotho is surprised that you decline her invitation, but it does not seem to diminish her ardor for you. *page_break *goto ceremony #I will follow her inside, but sit apart from her and watch her while she sleeps. *set discretion %-10 She is clearly surprised that you do not seek to join her in her bed. @{priest "Soon enough, you will put aside that collar for me," she says with a smile.|} She does not hesitate to make your decision a difficult one to pursue, as she languidly undoes her hair, letting it fall about her shoulders after its own kinky fashion. Once she has changed into her bedclothes, she seems to be more accepting of your choice, and glides between the sheets, out of which she begins to ramble about her peculiarities of her family. Your contribute your own observations, but mostly let her speak until sleep comes to take her away from your tormented desire. Before dawn breaks, you force yourself to depart, dreaming of those dark limbs protruding from the white of her bedding. *page_break *goto ceremony *if (knows_parts_dont_work = false) #I follow her inside; there we shall explore the pleasures of the flesh. *set knows_parts_dont_work true *set fed_from_clotho true Much to your dismay, you discover that your parts do not function as they did while you were still mortal. And while the act of pleasuring her could—in theory—be rewarding in and of itself, the whole time you find yourself thinking about drinking her blood. Eventually, the temptation grows too great, and you sink your fangs into the inside of her thigh. She cries out, but soon becomes lost in the ecstasy of your fangs. *if embrace_of_affection and (sire_alive and (sire_name != "West")) Practicing what ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} taught you, you slip slowly from her life-force, allowing her heart to spur yours into motion. *if embrace_of_affection = false You take it slowly, and soon find that though her heartbeat slows, yours spurs to life. You have never felt as close to another as you now do, your two hearts beating as one. You excuse yourself before dawn. *page_break *goto ceremony #I follow her inside, and before the moment of intimacy, feed from her. She won't know the difference. *set compassion %-20 *set fed_from_clotho true Clotho flits about the room nervously, lighting candles as you try to acclimate yourself to the space. The room prepared, she releases her hair for the first time, allowing her kinky curls to fall to her shoulders. She begins to undo her bodice, working on loosening the threads. You move to help her, but finding yourself frustrated by the progress, you begin tugging at it to speed the process; that smell of death which first attracted your attention nearly overwhelms your senses. Finally free of the bodice, she stands before you, trembling and delicate in her naked mortality. You close the distance between you, hungering for that moment when your heart will spark to life and beat in time with hers. You excuse yourself before dawn. *page_break *goto ceremony *label ceremony *temp question_babineaux true *temp heard_of_babineaux false *temp statement_father true *temp seance_location false *temp knows_seance_location false You are continually surprised by the extent of Clotho's network of clients throughout the city and the region. Through a combination of fortune-telling, spells-for-hire and spiritual counseling, Clotho ensnares these individuals in webs of debt and then encourages them to bring others to her, thereby incrementally expanding her influence over the city. @{bought_goat The goat, for example, has long since gone missing, no doubt used in one of her rituals.|} In this way, she continually expands her influence outward; much like the machinations of your patron and Jesse, she is able to guide the course of the city and its politics. *if trumpet And yet, it seems that Clotho's influence is not as complete as she estimated. The details are sketchy, but apparently some séance with a local sugar-planter went astray. It is unfortunate that such a useful contact has perished, but you give her no further thought. *finish Though you rarely witness it, you learn that she maintains a correspondence with many individuals high and low, and spends several hours every day reading and writing letters to various individuals, regardless of their station. Man or woman, black or white, slave or free, they all seek her counsel. Sometimes, these letters affect her deeply; she confides in you one evening that a cousin of hers died in childbirth. You do your best to console her. Throughout these celebrations and sorrows, your spring courtship continues. *page_break One May eve, Clotho informs you that she has been requested to perform a [i]séance[/i] for M. Pierre-Louis Babineaux, a sugar-planter who is visiting the city for a few days. *if streetwise > 0 At the mention of his name, however, your hackles rise. Babineaux is known throughout the region as a smuggler who uses his waterfront plantation as a receiving point for imports that would be otherwise subject to high tariffs, and the idea of Clotho performing a [i]séance[/i] for him does not sit well with you. *set heard_of_babineaux true @{flowers_from_babineaux Moreover, you can only assume that he is the same M. Babineaux that sent her flowers recently.|} *if perception > 2 You can sense Clotho's anxiety about this event; her emotions are palpable to you. *if (sire_name = "Guillaume de Sainte-Chapelle") and embrace_of_affection "I think I have met a member of the Babineaux family. They have a sugar-plantation in Plaquemines parish, do they not?" "He is the master of that plantation, yes." *goto ceremony_2 *elseif perception > 0 Her foot is tapping uncharacteristically when she informs you of this. *if (sire_name = "Guillaume de Sainte-Chapelle") and embrace_of_affection "I think I have met a member of the Babineaux family. They have a sugar-plantation in Plaquemines parish, do they not?" "He is the master of that plantation, yes." *goto ceremony_2 *else *if (sire_name = "Guillaume de Sainte-Chapelle") and embrace_of_affection "I think I have met a member of the Babineaux family. They have a sugar-plantation in Plaquemines parish, do they not?" "He is the master of that plantation, yes." *goto ceremony_2 *label ceremony_2 *if (sire_name = "Guillaume de Sainte-Chapelle") and embrace_of_affection *set question_babineaux false What do you say? *choice *if sires_faith = "faithful" *if statement_father #"My…father…would say that you are a witch, doing things such as this." *set statement_father false Clotho smiles at you, her white teeth shining from the contrast with her dusky skin. "I imagine many of the fathers in this town would say the same thing." *goto ceremony_2 *if discretion > 40 #"I will accompany you." *set discretion %+10 "You will do no such thing, my dear. Besides, I know how to handle M. Babineaux." With that, she changes the topic. *page_break *goto night_of_seance *if question_babineaux #"Babineaux? Should I have heard of him?" "Yes, he is a sugar-planter from Plaquemines parish. Sometimes he comes to town with his goods." *set heard_of_babineaux true *set question_babineaux false *if streetwise > 0 *choice #Remain silent. *set discretion %-5 #"I thought his activities were…of a questionable nature." Clotho rolls her eyes at you. "Don't be coy with me! You know that I minister to anyone that needs me. And it's those like M. Babineaux that are my most faithful clients. An' lay-dee Clo-toh gunna help everywun dat need hurh help," she concludes with a grin. *goto ceremony_2 *if heard_of_babineaux #"Whom does he want to contact?" *set question_babineaux false *set heard_of_babineaux false *set seance_location true "I imagine the same as always. He lost a son a while back, and likes to know how he is doing in the afterlife." *if compassion < 35 "That's a little macabre, trying to converse with your dead son like that." "M. Babineaux wants to know that his son is alright. I tell him what he needs to hear." *elseif compassion <= 65 "Do you have many clients who wish to speak to those on the other side of the grave?" "Yes. There are many who cannot let the dead rest in peace." *else "I don't suppose you use the son's corpse in the ritual?" "His corpse? To what end?" "To aid in the summoning, of course." "Heavens no! A few personal effects are more than enough. Besides, it's mostly about tell M. Babineaux what he wants to hear." *goto ceremony_2 *if seance_location #"Where will the [i]séance[/i] be held?" *set seance_location false *set knows_seance_location true "We'll do it at Yves's house. He still feels indebted over that whole matter with M. Theriot." *goto ceremony_2 #"Would you like for me to accompany you to this [i]séance[/i]?" *set compassion %-5 "That is sweet of you to ask, but there is no need. I know how to handle M. Babineaux." With that, she changes the topic. *page_break *goto night_of_seance *if discretion < 60 #Nothing more on this subject; I have learned that Clotho can take care of herself. *set discretion %-10 *goto night_of_seance *label night_of_seance The night of Clotho's [i]séance[/i] with M. Babineaux, you find yourself prowling around Jackson Square. You note Guidry still sitting in the same place; the thought crosses your mind that he @{(rationalism > 50) might be like you, in some way immortal|must have observed many things strange things while guarding his post}. Whatever the case, he still sits there, watching the coming and going of merchants, lawyers, and insurance-brokers into the Presbytère. Wait! Did Guidry just…motion to you? Wave to approach? The very idea that he may have moved of his own volition impels you towards him to inquire as to whether the vision were fact or mere fancy on your part. You approach the old man cautiously. *page_break In that way peculiar to Guidry, the sound of his voice rumbles out of his throat. "Dey wuz tawkin about Clo-toh." No greeting? No attempt to sell you something? "Good evening to you too, M. Guidry. It is always a pleasure to see you." "Dey wuz tawkin about Clo-toh." "Yes, I feel quite well this evening. Thank you for asking. I'm glad to hear that you've been enjoying your occupation so." "Dey wuz tawkin about Clo-toh." You sigh to yourself. Why did you approach Guidry? His words are nonsense. "Yes, and I'm sure that many people throughout the city speak of Mlle. Clotho." "Dey wuz tawkin about Clo-toh, an' deh say-ance she be givin' to-night." That stops you cold. "Where are they now?" With little more than a glance, Guidry indicates two men exiting the square, along the side of the St. Louis Cathedral. "Thank you, M. Guidry," you say as you set off in pursuit. *page_break *if stealth > 0 Your talents for skulking about come in handy here, as you near the two men without their noticing you. *else *if perception > 0 Your exceptional hearing comes in handy here, as you can trail them at some distance while still eavesdropping on their conversation. *elseif (streetwise > 0) *if speaks_english Casting about for a way to listen in on their conversation, you spy an urchin by the name of Jeanne who knows you and has done some favors for you in the past. You gesture for her to come to you, and you quickly explain what you need. She dashes off after the men. *goto urchin *elseif speaks_french Casting about for a way to listen in on their conversation, you spy an urchin by the name of Jeanne who knows you and has done some favors for you in the past. You gesture for her to come to you, and you quickly explain what you need. She dashes off after the men. *goto urchin *goto overhear_plot *label urchin *set wealth -5 When the urchin returns, you flip her a coin. "Mam'selle Clotho in big trouble! Some poppa-man real upset 'cuz his son ain't dead. I think they gonna string her up or sumthin." Babineaux's son isn't dead? They're going to string Clotho up? This doesn't sound good. *choice *if knows_seance_location #I rush to her rescue! *set discretion %+10 *set compassion %-5 *goto seance *if knows_seance_location = false #Confront the men. I must learn where the [i]séance[/i] is being held! *if perception > 2 *set discretion %-10 Reaching out with your mind, you sense the location of the [i]séance[/i]…at the home of M. Hébert! You turn and head in the direction of M. Hébert's abode. *page_break *goto seance *elseif charm > 2 *set discretion %-5 "Pardon me, Messieurs, but I am actually seeking M. Babineaux…do you know where I can find him? I have a very important message for him." Entranced by your gaze, the men inform you that the [i]séance[/i] is being held at the home of M. Hébert. Without so much as a goodbye, you turn and head in the direction of M. Hébert's abode. *page_break *goto seance *elseif (charm = 2) and (male = false) *comment This line intentionally left blank for equivalence. *set discretion %-5 "Pardon me, Messieurs, but I am actually seeking M. Babineaux…do you know where I can find him? I have a very important message for him." Assuming you could do no harm, the men inform you that the [i]séance[/i] is being held at the home of M. Hébert. Without so much as a goodbye, you turn and head in the direction of M. Hébert's abode. *page_break *goto seance *else *set discretion %+5 "Pardon me, Messieurs, but I am given to understand you know where I can find M. Babineaux?" They look you up and down. "You can leave word for M. Babineaux at his residence on la rue Royale." "But I need to see him right now." "I'm afraid I can't help you with that." The two men turn to leave. *choice #I will make them tell me. *set discretion %+15 You throw one of the men against the wall, your hand around his throat. "Where is he?" you growl. "At the home of M. Hébert, on la rue Conti!" Releasing the man, you turn and head in the direction of M. Hébert's abode. *page_break *goto seance #There is nothing more I can do. *set discretion %-10 Frustrated, but unable to make any further progress, you try to put the matter out of your mind, and trust in Clotho to take care of herself. *page_break Clotho calls on you the following evening. When you ask after the events of the [i]séance[/i], she smiles and simply says that M. Babineaux found what he was looking for. *goto declaration_of_love *if knows_seance_location = false #Return to Guidry, and ask him if he knows where the [i]séance[/i] is being held. But if he doesn't know, the men will have gotten so far away, it is unlikely that you'll be able to find them again. *set discretion %-10 "Ovah aht Massa A-bear's. Ah tink dat where she doin dat ting." "Thank you, Guidry." You turn and head in the direction of M. Hébert's abode. *page_break *goto seance *if discretion < 60 #Clotho has demonstrated her ability to take care of herself. That's what I love about her. *set discretion %-5 Clotho calls on you the following evening. When you ask after the events of the [i]séance[/i], she smiles and simply says that M. Babineaux found what he was looking for. You later hear that M. Babineaux was arrested by District Marshal Nicholson for attempted murder and smuggling. *goto declaration_of_love *label overhear_plot "Tell me again, dear friend…the son just showed up one day?" "Yes, he had run off with a slave, and they had lived together as man and wife. However, since he had made it look like he had been eaten by an alligator, everyone thought he was dead. Until he came home one day. Apparently the slave-girl had died in childbirth." "And M. Babineaux had been paying that Voodoo woman Clotho to convey messages to his dead son the whole time?" "He had. As you can imagine, my master was enraged at how he had been used." "So what did he do?" "Well, nothing yet. We just got to town yesterday. But he's hired her for another parley tonight; I'm going to meet junior at their house right now. I imagine it will not end well for her." "I should say not, my dear boy!" You have heard enough. *choice *if knows_seance_location #I rush to her rescue! *set discretion %+10 *set compassion %-5 *goto seance *if knows_seance_location = false #Confront the men. I must learn where the [i]séance[/i] is being held! *set discretion %+10 *if charm > 2 "Pardon me, Messieurs, but I am actually seeking M. Babineaux. I have a message from him that is most urgent, and I couldn't help but overhear your discussion of him. Please, I must find him immediately!" The two men look at you, and unable to resist your petition, they reveal the address of the [i]séance[/i]…the home of M. Hébert! You take your leave of them without another word. *page_break *goto seance *elseif (charm = 2) and (male = false) "Pardon me, Messieurs, but I am actually seeking M. Babineaux. I have a message from him that is most urgent, and I couldn't help but overhear your discussion of him. Please, I must find him immediately!" The two men look at you; you can almost see them concluding that whatever matter a woman could be involved with must be of little consequence. With a wave, they point in the direction of Rue Conti, and relate the address…the home of M. Hébert! You take your leave of them without another word. *page_break *goto seance *elseif (strength > 2) and male "Pardon me, Messieurs, but I am actually seeking M. Babineaux. I could not help but overheard your conversation, and I think that you should tell me where he is right now." The two men look at your well-toned form with an obvious air of fear. "He…he's at the home of M. Hébert, on Rue Conti." You take your leave of them without another word. *page_break *goto seance *else "Pardon me, Messieurs, but I am actually seeking M. Babineaux. I have a message from him that is most urgent, and I couldn't help but overhear your discussion of him. Please, I must find him immediately!" "His townhouse is on Rue Bourbon. I am sure that you can leave word for him there." "But I have to find him right now!" "I am sorry, you'll just have to wait." With that, the two men continue on with their discussion. *choice #Try to beat it out of them. *if combat >= 7 "They're meeting at M. Hébert's! Please, let me live!" "I am in too much of a hurry to kill you. Be grateful for that." With that, you turn and head in the direction of M. Hébert's abode. *page_break *goto seance *else Lunging at them, you find yourself quickly outmatched. Only by releasing the beast within are you able to best them, but in doing so, you end up tearing them to shreds. You come to your senses to the screams of onlookers, drinking from a pool of the dead men's blood in the middle of the street. *page_break *goto masquerade_breach #Return to Guidry. *set discretion %-10 "Ovah aht Massa A-bear's. Ah tinks dat where she doin dat ting." "Thank you, Guidry." You turn and head in the direction of M. Hébert's abode. *page_break *goto seance #Give up; let Clotho take care of herself. *set discretion %-5 Clotho calls on you the following evening. When you ask after the events of the [i]séance[/i], she smiles and simply says that M. Babineaux found what he was looking for. *page_break You later hear that M. Babineaux was arrested by District Marshal Nicholson for attempted murder and smuggling. *page_break *goto declaration_of_love *if knows_seance_location = false #Return to Guidry, and ask him if he knows where the [i]séance[/i] is being held. But if he doesn't know, the men will have gotten so far away, it is unlikely that you'll be able to find them again. *set discretion %-10 "Ovah aht Massa A-bear's. Ah tinks dat where she doin dat ting." "Thank you, Guidry." You turn and head in the direction of M. Hébert's abode. *page_break *goto seance *if discretion <= 60 #Clotho has demonstrated her ability to take care of herself. That's what I love about her. *set discretion %-5 Clotho calls on you the following evening. When you ask after the events of the [i]séance[/i], she smiles and simply says that M. Babineaux found what he was looking for. *page_break You later hear that M. Babineaux was arrested by District Marshal Nicholson for attempted murder and smuggling. *page_break *goto declaration_of_love *label seance *temp gun_fired true *temp marshal_introduced false You pause before turning on to M. Hébert's block of rue Conti. Peering around the corner of a building, you can see lights in the windows clearly illuminating the first floor; other than a footman you do not recognize, you see no one in or around the house. You do detect flickering candlelight on the second floor, however, more in keeping with what you imagine a [i]séance[/i] might entail. There is a balcony on the second floor; the door to the balcony is ajar. *choice *if shapeshifting > 3 #I turn into a bat, and fly up to the second-floor balcony. *goto on_balcony *if strength > 1 *selectable_if (stealth > 0) #Trusting in my powers of stealth, I can climb up to the second floor. *goto on_balcony *selectable_if (agility > 3) #I am so fast that I can run, leap and scramble up to the second floor before the footman notices. *goto on_balcony #I attack the footman. *gosub_scene util combat_value_stealth *goto fight_footman #I try to intimidate the footman into fleeing. *if charm > 2 A glare and a few well-chosen words send the footman fleeing into the night. Your interference gone, you make your way inside. *goto inside_house *else He does not seem to be moved by your threats. Instead, he draws a knife and lunges at you. *goto fight_footman *selectable_if (wealth > 1000) #I try to bribe the footman into leaving his post. *if charm > 1 *set wealth -200 Looking both ways, the footman pockets the money and scurries down the street. You make your way inside. *goto inside_house *else He rejects your offering. Instead, he draws a knife and lunges at you. *goto fight_footman *label fight_footman *if combat >= 6 You render the footman unconscious with a few blows to the head. Your obstacle cleared, you head inside. *else Unfortunately, the footman is skilled with his blade. In order to best him, you would have to give in to the hunger, but that would be a drastically poor choice on this public street, where people could be watching. Becoming desperate, however, you resort to intimidation. Extending your fangs, you hiss as mightily as you can. The footman pauses. The smell of urine suddenly fills the air. His blade drops to the ground, and he begins moving slowly to the side. You pat the footman on the head, and then look around to make sure no one else saw your display. Satisfied, you step inside M. Hébert's abode. *page_break *label inside_house *gosub_scene util combat_value You steal quietly up the stairs of the house, keeping an eye out for any other lurkers. When you reach the second floor, you find the door to the salon—the room that overlooks the street—slightly ajar. Through the door, you can hear Clotho's voice, calling upon the spirits of the other world to use her body to allow M. Babineaux to communicate with his dearly departed son. Her voice begins to rise and lower in both pitch and volume, *goto watching_seance *label on_balcony Through the door, you can hear Clotho's voice, calling upon the spirits of the other world to use her body to allow M. Babineaux to communicate with his dearly departed son. Her voice begins to rise and lower in both pitch and volume, *label watching_seance @{(rationalism > 50) distorted by the powers she calls upon.|distorted by the needs of her performance.} *temp on_babineaux false *temp on_clotho false Suddenly, her calls stop. After a moment's pause, she begins to speak like a child, absent her [i]patois[/i]. "Pawpaw." "What? What is this?" responds a voice, which you assume belongs to Babineaux. "Pawpaw, you slew me before I ever drew breath." "I have no grandchildren, you stupid witch! And you lied about my son being dead! I will listen to no more of your nonsense! You are nothing but a fraud!" "Pawpaw, this vessel did not lie to you. Do you not see? You slew both of us." During this conversation, you have slipped in through the door, and are now peering at the scene before you. The aroma of candles, incense and chicken's blood fill the room, overwhelming your sense of smell. The room where you spent many evenings with M. Hébert has been emptied of most of its furniture; dark and velvety drapes hang in irregular rows from the ceiling muffling much of the sound in the room, while candles, animal skulls, and other occult accoutrement fill to overflowing several small tables and stands. A brief glance gives you the impression of something otherworldly. It is with alarm that you suddenly realize there is someone else behind these curtains, also hiding from the pair in the center of the room. Whoever it is, they don't seem to notice you, intent as they are on what's happening in the room. Momentarily turning your attention back to Clotho and her interlocutor, you see the man whom you assume to be Babineaux drawing a pistol from his coat pocket. Clotho seems to ignore the weapon, though the child's voice in her throat has begin chanting or praying or cursing…you can't quite tell which. Babineaux seems unimpressed. "You had me bury an empty coffin, because you told me my son was dead. This is what happens to people who misuse me!" he exclaims, as he takes aim at Clotho. @{(perception > 2) Interestingly, you can sense that Clotho—or whatever possesses Clotho—feels no fear at this. Maybe some apprehension, but no fear.|} @{(intelligence > 2) Evaluating the situation, you determine that Babineaux is a good distance from you; only the heights of supernatural speed will allow you to successfully intervene before Clotho is shot and most likely killed.|} *choice #I try to strike Babineaux before he can fire his weapon. *set on_babineaux true *set discretion %+10 *set compassion %-10 *if agility <= 3 You throw yourself into the room, trying to interject yourself before the pistol fires. Time seems to slow as you watch Clotho writhe under her possession, while the pistol's flintlock hammer descends on its pan. Unfortunately, you are too slow. The gunpowder ignites, and the pistol discharges right as you crash into Babineaux, bringing both of you to the ground. Clotho falls backwards to the floor. @{speaks_english "Stop in the name of the law!" a voice commands from near where you had been hiding. The man behind the curtain—the speaker you assume—emerges with his own pistol drawn and pointed towards you and Babineaux.|The man behind the curtain says something loudly, while emerging with a pistol of his own pointed at you and Babineaux.} *goto too_slow_decision *else *set on_babineaux true *set gun_fired false Dashing across the room, you knock Babineaux to the ground. A moment later, you hear what you assume to be the voice of the other lurker shouting @{speaks_english "Stop in the name of the law!" a voice commands from near where you had been hiding. The man behind the curtains—the speaker you assume—emerges with his own pistol drawn and pointed towards you and Babineaux.| The man behind the curtain says something loudly, while emerging with a pistol of his own pointed towards you and Babineaux.} *goto too_slow_decision #I try to tackle Clotho. *set on_clotho true *set discretion %+10 *set compassion %-15 *if agility <= 3 You throw yourself into the room, trying to interject yourself before the pistol fires. Time seems to slow as you watch Clotho writhe under her possession, while the pistol's flintlock hammer descends on its pan. Unfortunately, you are too slow. The gunpowder ignites, and the pistol discharges before you can knock Clotho out of the way. She is already falling when your body crashes into hers, bringing both of you to the floor. @{speaks_english "Stop in the name of the law!" a voice commands from near where you had been hiding. The man behind the curtains—the speaker you assume—emerges with his own pistol drawn and pointed towards Babineaux.|The man behind the curtain says something loudly, while emerging with a pistol of his own pointed at Babineaux.} *goto too_slow_decision *else Dashing across the room, you knock Clotho out of the way before the gun fires. A moment later, you hear what you assume to be the voice of the other lurker shouting @{speaks_english "Stop in the name of the law!" a voice commands from near where you had been hiding. The man behind the curtain—the speaker you assume—emerges with his own pistol drawn and pointed towards Babineaux.| The man behind the curtain says something loudly, while emerging with a pistol of his own pointed at Babineaux.} *goto babineaux_arrested_alternate #I let things unfold as they will. *set discretion %-10 Time seems to slow as you watch Clotho writhe under her possession, while the pistol's flintlock hammer descends on its pan. The gunpowder ignites, and the pistol discharges is load. Clotho falls to the floor with a scream. At this, the man behind the curtain emerges, yelling loudly @{speaks_english "Stop! In the name of the Law!"|in English,} with his own pistol drawn. *goto too_slow_decision #I push the other lurker into the center of the room, hoping to interrupt the proceedings. *set discretion %-10 *label babineaux_stopped Babineaux turns to look at your distraction. He clearly does not know what to think about what is before him. The unidentified man growls from deep in his gut, before levelling his own pistol at Babineaux, and shouting *if speaks_english *set marshal_introduced true "Put your gun down, Mr. Babineaux! I am US District Marshal John Nicholson!" *goto babineaux_stopped_1 *else something in English. *goto babineaux_stopped_1 *label babineaux_stopped_1 "You whore!" Babineaux screams, as he turns his pistol on @{speaks_english the Marshal. Seeing Babineaux's pistol swinging towards him, the Marshal fires his gun. Babineaux crumples to the ground.|the unidentified man. Seeing Babineaux's pistol swinging towards him, the unidentified man fires his gun. Babineaux crumples to the ground.} *goto babineaux_arrested_wounded #I throw open the curtains, and attempt to draw Babineaux's attention, giving Clotho time to escape. *set discretion %+10 *if charm > 2 *goto babineaux_stopped *else Unfortunately, your attempts to draw Babineaux's attention fail. Time seems to slow as you watch the flintlock device ignite the gunpowder in the pan, and shortly the pistol discharges its load. The pistol fired, the unidentified man emerges from his hiding place, yelling loudly @{speaks_english "Stop! In the name of the Law!" with his own pistol drawn and pointing at Babineaux.|English, with his own pistol drawn and pointing at Babineaux.} *goto too_slow_decision *label too_slow_decision *choice *if gun_fired and (on_clotho = false) #Rush to Clotho. *set discretion %-5 *set compassion %-10 You let go of Babineaux and rush to Clotho's side. She looks up at you in surprise. "Wa tchyou doin' here, my love?" "I came to save you! But I am too late!" you exclaim. "Wa tchyou tawkin' bout? Lay-dee Clo-toh jus' fine," she says as she sits up. Only now do you realize that she is not bleeding. The man from behind the curtain approaches Babineaux, and begins tying Babineaux's hands together with a piece of rope. *goto babineaux_arrested *if on_babineaux #Kill Babineaux. Messily. *set discretion %+20 *set compassion %+10 You unleash you fangs, and tear Babineaux's throat open with one vicious bite. The identified man is screaming, and shortly Clotho is as well. The unidentified man's pistol fires, striking you in the shoulder. You turn to look at him, your face covered in Babineaux's blood. Hissing like the beast you are, you move in for the kill. *if combat >= 7 *set marshal_killed true Within moments, the unidentified man is dead as well. Only then do you turn to fully grasp that Clotho is unharmed. Physically, at least. For now she can see you for the slavery beast that you truly are. *choice #Kill her too. *set compassion %+20 *set discretion %-5 *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-20 *set exiled_from_new_orleans true *set status 0 *set overstreet_rapport %-20 You have made a horrible mess of things. *if taste_for_vampire_blood = false A pity especially regarding Clotho…she truly did have the sweetest blood you'd ever tasted. Though all the witnesses are dead, the murder of a US Marshal—the unidentified man—cannot go unpunished. A few nights later, ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} exiles you from the city. You are lucky to be fleeing with your unlife intact. You barely have time to gather a few things and board a steamer upriver before the last few moments of your time in New-Orleans expire. *page_break Next *set wealth /4 *set income /2 *set fubar_clotho true *goto_scene karlstein #Force her to become a vampire like you. *set discretion %+10 She resists the gift with every fiber of her being. She wants nothing of what you are. With a final expression of will, she yanks a piece of tablecloth that was nearby, just as you are preparing to pour your lifeblood into her mouth. Above you, a candelabra teeters precariously, before tipping over and casting hot wax and open flames all over the two of you. You are startled, but ultimately unhurt. However, her purpose has been achieved, and when you finally position yourself above her, she is already dead. *page_break *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-20 *set exiled_from_new_orleans true *set status 0 *set overstreet_rapport %-20 You have made a horrible mess of things. Though all the witnesses are dead, the murder of a US Marshal—the unidentified man—cannot go unpunished. A few nights later, ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} exiles you from the city. You are lucky to be fleeing with your unlife intact. You barely have time to gather a few things and board a steamer upriver before the last few moments of your time in New-Orleans expire. *page_break Next *set wealth /4 *set income /2 *set fubar_clotho true *goto_scene karlstein #Flee. When you regain your senses, you realize the gravity of your crimes. You have violated the Rule of Reserve, and you could be put to death for it. *goto masquerade_breach_1 *else Unfortunately, your wounds prevent you from bringing down your prey. Hurting, you flee for your existence. *page_break When you regain your senses, you realize the gravity of your crimes. You have violated the Rule of Reserve, and you could be put to death for it. *goto masquerade_breach_1 *if on_clotho #Try to revive Clotho. *set compassion %-10 "Clotho! Come back to me!" you exclaim as you shake her shoulders. "Stop dat now!" she replies, brushing your hands from her. You shake your head in surprise. "Lay-dee Clo-toh jus fine," she continues. Turning, you watch the unidentified man approaching M. Babineaux with a length of rope. *goto babineaux_arrested *if on_clotho #Rush Babineaux. *set discretion %+10 *set marshal_introduced true The unidentified man is screaming at you to stop. He reaches you moments after you have slammed Babineaux up against the wall. The three of you struggle until you hear Clotho speak above the fray, "${given_name}, let him go now! Marshal Nicholson be takin' it from 'ere." You pause long enough to see her standing, seemingly fine, brushing herself off. You let Nicholson take Babineaux. *goto babineaux_arrested_alternate *if gun_fired #"This man has just murdered my true love!" *set discretion %+5 "Wa tchyou tawkin' bout? Lay-dee Clo-toh jus' fine." You turn your gaze back to Clotho, to see her sitting up, unwounded. *if (male = false) and (speaks_english = false) Looking back at Babineaux, you can see his eyes bugging out of his skull at your declaration. Feeling suddenly very exposed, you try to put as much distance as possible between you and Babineaux, while the unidentified man approaches him. *if (male = false) and ((speaks_french = false) and speaks_english) Looking at the unidentified man, you see his eyes trying to make sense of the words you just spoke. You can only assume that he literally cannot understand the implications of your words, because he shakes them off with a gesture of dismissal as he nears Babineaux. *goto babineaux_arrested #Attack the formerly hidden man. *set marshal_introduced true You lunge towards the man, and knock the pistol out of the way before he can bring it to bear on you. You are about to unleash your fangs and tear out his throat when you hear Clotho calling you above the fray. "${given_name}, let him go now! Dat be Marshal Nicholson! He be a good man now!" You pause long enough to see her standing, seemingly fine, brushing herself off. After a moment's consideration, you release Nicholson, who looks a little embarrassed that you got the best of him. You watch Nicholson move towards Babineaux with some rope, before turning to address Clotho. *goto babineaux_arrested_alternate #Pause to see what the formerly hidden man does. *if on_babineaux *set discretion %-5 *if gun_fired The still unidentified man tosses you a piece of rope, gesturing for you to restrain Babineaux. You comply happily, and a few moments later, Babineaux is whimpering for his restraints to be loosened. While you are doing so, the man addresses Babineaux again, *if speaks_english "Mr. Babineaux, I am putting you under arrest for attempted murder. I also have a warrant for your arrest for the evasion of Federal tariffs." You stand, and turn to check on Clotho. You are surprised to see her standing up, brushing herself off. *else but you still can't understand. You stand, and turn to check on Clotho. You are surprised to see her standing up, brushing herself off. *goto babineaux_arrested_alternate *else "${given_name}! Wha tchyou doin?" Clotho exclaims. "I am saving you from this murderer!" indicating Babineaux. "Ah tells you, Ah don' need savin!" she proclaims in disgust. You see the formerly unidentified man putting away a pistol. He wears the badge of a US Marshal. "Dis here is Ma'shal John Nicholson. He be here to arrest Massa Babineaux, but he can' do dat now since Massa Babineaux didn' get ta shoot me." You watch in some confusion as the Marshal ties Babineaux up and leads him out. Before he goes, he communicates to Clotho that she had best look out, as the charges will not stick. Clotho is understandably angry with you for interfering. It is several days before you hear of her again. *page_break *set compassion %+5 M. Hébert comes by your haven one evening; it seems that Clotho's body was found hanging from a tree outside the Faubourg Marigny. Her hands, feet, tongue and breasts were all removed and not to be found. He also informs you that Babineaux is free and has returned to his plantation south of the city. You anger is only eclipsed by your shame. *finish Next *else You can see Babineaux looking around for an escape, but before he can act, the unidentified man has Babineaux on the ground with his hands tied. *goto babineaux_arrested *label babineaux_arrested @{speaks_english "Mr. Babineaux, I am putting you under arrest for attempted murder. I also have a warrant for your arrest for the evasion of Federal tariffs."|The man addresses Babineaux in English.} Once Babineaux is restrained, the man turns to look after Clotho. She greets him warmly@{speaks_english , |—in English—}and introduces him as District Marshal John Nicholson. Nicholson thanks Clotho for her assistance, and then picks Babineaux up off the ground and guides him downstairs. Babineaux kicks and curses the whole way. *goto explanation *label babineaux_arrested_alternate "My dear, are you alright?" you exclaim. "Lay-dee Clo-toh jus fine. But lay-dee Clo-toh wanna know wa tchyou come here for?" "I heard these men in the Square…they said Babineaux was going to string you up!" "Don'tchyou worry none. Me and deh Ma'shal dere, we gots it all goin." *if marshal_introduced = false "The Marshal?" "Yah! Who dya tink dis is?" she says, gesturing towards the stranger, who is introduced as Marshal John Nicholson. *comment endif You make your apologies for your surprise appearance. Nicholson brushes off these comments, deciding instead to guide his quarry out of M. Hébert's house. *page_break *goto explanation *label babineaux_arrested_wounded "My dear, are you alright?" you exclaim. "Lay-dee Clo-toh jus fine. But lay-dee Clo-toh wanna know wa tchyou come here for?" "I heard these men in the Square…they said Babineaux was going to string you up!" "Don' tchyou worry none. Me and deh Ma'shal dere, we gots it all goin." *if marshal_introduced = false "The Marshal?" "Yah! Who dya tink dis is?" she says, gesturing towards the stranger, who is introduced as Marshal John Nicholson. *comment endif You make your apologies for your surprise appearance. Nicholson brushes off these comments, deciding instead to busy himself tending to the wounded and bleeding Babineaux. *page_break *goto explanation *label explanation *comment Clotho explains: "My cousin, a slave, ran off with her master Babineaux's son. Junior was in love and couldn't abide his father's cruelty towards the slaves, besides his illicit business affairs. They staged it to look like he'd been eaten by an alligator, and that brought M. Babineaux to me. With my cousin's help, I kept M. Babineaux from investigating too deeply. But when my cousin died in childbirth two months ago in a cabin, Junior was furious. He wrote to me, asking for my help to trap M. Babineaux. Because of his smuggling operation, Marshal Nicholson has been trying to prosecute Babineaux, but needed someone to testify. Junior was willing to testify about the smuggling operation, but he wanted his father punished for more than simply smuggling, as he would probably only be assessed a fine. And so they hatched this plan. When Junior prepared the pistol for his dad to come tonight, he left out the bullet. Then it was just up to me to get Babineaux so angry that he would pull the trigger." "I…I don't understand," you stutter. "That's alright, dear ${given_name}. It was some family business that needed to be addressed." "But…how can I take care of you if you don't tell me what is happening?" "I know you mean well, ${given_name}, but I've been caring for myself a lot longer than you have been here to protect me. I have yet to meet a man that can get the better of me." *if male "And what of me?" "You? To you I give willingly the better part of myself," she says, planting a kiss on your lips. The next few weeks pass in a blur of lust, sweat, and the exquisitely slow drinking of her blood. *else "Then I suppose it best that I was born a woman." "And therefore you think you can get the better of me?" "I think I already have…" you say with a smile and a kiss. "No, to you I give willingly the better part of myself," she says, planting a kiss of her own on your lips. The next few weeks pass in a blur of lust, sweat and the exquisitely slow drinking of her blood. *label declaration_of_love *page_break The time comes for you to put your feelings into words. A terrifying prospect, even more so for a creature of the night. You may tear mortals limb from limb in your eternal quest for blood, but the matters of the heart are still a mystery. At the same time, however, a fear has been mounting in your heart…what lasting thing can pass between a predator and its prey? Perhaps you should end things, before some tragedy befalls you both? *choice #"Do you not feel this thing between us? Pulling me inexorably towards you, wanting to take you in my arms and never let you go?" *goto revelation #"I can never see you again. Know that I love you, and I would not do this were it not truly for the best." "What crime could you commit that we could not overcome together? If we must flee New-Orleans, then let us flee. But do not plead concern for my well-being." "You do not understand…" "I understand that you, ${sir}, are a coward." She stands in a tornado of fury, stalking away into the night. #"I have met someone else. This thing between us is over," I lie. "I will not stoop so low as to argue with you, ${given_name}. I hope that this person is worthy of your affection." With that, she excuses herself, choking back the tears. You feel yourself crushed as she leaves your presence. Soon, the sun will rise. You lie down for your day's rest, pondering the wisdom of your decision. *page_break When you awake, you tend to your toilette, as is your custom. It is there, standing before the mirror, that you hear the most heart-rending shriek of your existence, one that you instantly recognize as belonging to Clotho. You rush to the street, looking in both directions for any sign of her. A crowd has gathered at the corner, while the driver of a carriage busies himself trying to settle his horses. With a mounting sense of denial, you make your way through the crowd until you can see Clotho, still trying to breathe though her chest has been crushed. You push through the last of the bystanders, and rush to her side, taking her head into you hands as her eyes close for the final time. You fall to your knees, sobbing over what remains of her, your tears of blood camouflaged by her drying fluids. *page_break Later that night, seeking some sort of solace, *goto find_letter *label revelation Clotho's face finally softens. "I feel it. Whether you believe me or not, dear ${given_name}, I dreamt of your coming some time ago. It is because of this that I have not encouraged your attentions, as I fear for what comes next. But I see now that I never had a choice. So is it written, so shall it be." "And what did your dream say of me?" "That we would have a love that will go beyond death." Her words send a chill down your spine. *choice #"Clotho, you must understand, I am already dead. I am what is called a vampire…" *goto revelation_1 #No, I must stop. Only misery for both of us lies down this road. "You do not understand what you say. I must leave. We can never see each other again." "You cannot mean that!" *choice *selectable_if (willpower > 2) #"I do. Fare well." *set discretion %-5 You shut the door to her quarters with finality. The dawn cannot come quickly enough. *page_break When you awake, you tend to your toilette, as is your custom. It is there, standing before the mirror, that you hear the most heart-rending shriek of your existence, one that you instantly recognize as belonging to Clotho. You rush to the street, looking in both directions for any sign of her. A crowd has gathered at the corner, while the driver of a carriage busies himself trying to settle his horses. With a mounting sense of denial, you make your way through the crowd until you can see Clotho, still trying to breathe though her chest has been crushed. You push through the last of the bystanders, and rush to her side, taking her head into you hands as her eyes close for the final time. You fall to your knees, sobbing over what remains of her, your tears of blood camouflaged by her drying fluids. *page_break Later that night, seeking some sort of solace, *goto find_letter #"You are right, I cannot part from you. But you must know, I am a vampire!" *goto revelation_1 *if compassion >= 35 *selectable_if (willpower > 1) #No, I must stop. Only misery for both of us lies down this road. I kill her and drink her blood. *set compassion %+20 *set discretion %-5 She looks at you with horror as your fangs extend, moving to do what must be done. @{taste_for_vampire_blood |It is a pity, as her blood is sweeter than any you have ever tasted.} *page_break *set drained_clotho true Letting her body drop to the floor, you take a few moments to look around. Curious, *goto find_letter *label revelation_1 *if fed_from_clotho Her eyes go wide at your revelation. After a moment of consideration, however, she replies: "That explains many things. Our love-making was thrilling but…indistinct. I could never place why, the next day, certain parts hurt, but others did not." "Yes, I fed from you…it leaves you cloudy but pleasured, and is therefore misremembered as intercourse." "But, was it as pleasurable for you…" "It was." "Then, please, make me like you, so that we may feed from each other for eternity." *else Her eyes go wide at your revelation. "That explains much." "I'm sorry I did not tell you earlier…" "No. No apologies necessary. You have told me that you love me." "I do." "Then you must make me like you, that we may be together for eternity." *choice #"Yes!" You fall into each other's arms, kissing deeply. After a few moments, she bares her neck to you; you've never had your prey submit to your fangs before. Her surrender has intoxicated you even before her blood slips past your lips. *page_break *goto order_of_operations #"No, I cannot subject you to this existence!" *goto force_question *if compassion > 50 #How strange it is that she jumps at the chance for immortality so quickly. Has there been some plot leading to this all along? She sees your hesitation. *goto force_question *label force_question "But, dear ${given_name}, you cannot leave me to wither and decay before your eyes. I could not stand such a life!" *choice #She is right. I will turn her. The hardness around your eyes melts, and a smile of joy spreads over her face. You fall into each others arms, kissing deeply. After a few moments, she bares her neck to you; you've never had your prey submit to your fangs before. Her surrender has intoxicated you even before her blood slips past your lips. *page_break *goto order_of_operations #No, I cannot. But what's more, now she knows too much, and I must kill her. *set compassion %+20 *set discretion %-5 She looks at you with horror as your fangs extend, moving to do what must be done. @{taste_for_vampire_blood |It is a pity, as her blood is sweeter than any you have ever tasted.} *page_break *set drained_clotho true Letting her body drop to the floor, you take a few moments to look around. Curious, *goto find_letter *label order_of_operations Having made the decision to turn Clotho, you must decide how you intend to go about it. @{(lore > 1) It goes almost without saying that it is customary to ask the local quaestor permission before making another of your kind.|} *choice *selectable_if (discretion < 70) #I shall take her to see ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}. *set discretion %-5 *set independence %+10 *goto presenting_clotho *selectable_if (discretion > 30) #I need not ask leave of anyone! *set discretion %+10 *label to_embrace_clotho The two of you stand on the levee, overlooking the moon's reflection on the Mississippi. She looks in your eyes, expectantly. "I am ready," she says, drawing what may be one of her last breaths. *choice #Do it. *label embrace_clotho *set discretion %+10 *set character_embraced_clotho true She shrieks in ecstasy as your fangs find their mark, drawing out her life-force. When the moment is ripe, you bite your wrist and offer her your own blood. After a moment, she comes around, and begins sucking ravenously at your wound. The next few nights are blissful, as you begin to show her the ways of life immortal. Yet, you are troubled by what lies before you. You cannot avoid the company of your peers for long. You will be expected to attend the gatherings of the Society, and it will only be a matter of time before Clotho's existence becomes known. *choice #At the next opportunity, I introduce Clotho to ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}. *set independence %+10 *set discretion %+5 Eventually, the time comes for another gathering at the haven of ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}. You prepare Clotho and yourself for her first night among the others of your kind. The night of the gathering, you are bundle of nerves. When the two of you arrive, the candles that illuminate the quaestor's haven are somehow less cheery than usual. Under the gaze of Ajax, you escort Clotho inside. #It would be best if we fled the city. *set independence %-10 *set discretion %-5 You instruct Clotho to gather her things and meet you back at your haven. The two of you must flee the city, before ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} discovers your indiscretion. For the first time, you sense fear in Clotho. You kiss her goodbye, and then shut the door behind her, turning to pack your own things and sending a valet running to the docks to arrange for passage north. Perhaps after a decade or two, you can return and plead for forgiveness. *page_break There is a knock at the door. You rush to the door and throw it open, expecting to see Clotho there. You are right, she is there, but so too is Jesse. He has her firmly in his grip. "A friend of yours?" You feel a sudden sinking sensation. "I was wondering why I had not seen you in a few weeks. I suppose now I know why." *page_break *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-20 *set clotho_presented true *set clotho_ordered_killed true *set jesse_knows_about_clotho true "You have done what?" ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} thunders. "I gave the gift of eternity to…" "I heard you the first time, ${given_name}. I am astounded at your disregard for the customs of the Society. Where is this bastard child now?" "Clotho? She is in the next room, waiting for your welcome." ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} shoots Jesse a glance, who exits long enough to fetch Clotho into the room. "Now, dear ${given_name}, do you want to put an end to her existence or shall I?" "But…${new_orleans_quaestor_address}…you must jest!" You can sense that Clotho has begun to struggle fruitlessly against the iron grip of Jesse. "I do not jest, child. You are not old enough to grant the gift to another, and, further, you did not seek my permission. Therefore, this bastard must be put to death. Consider it a sign of my affection for you that I offer you the opportunity to do it yourself." *choice #"I cannot do this thing." *set discretion %-5 *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-10 *set independence %-10 "Very well. Ajax, fetch my shaving bowl." Moments later, Ajax reappears with his master's shaving bowl. In the meantime, you have been doing your best to comfort Clotho, who is doing her best to not scream in terror. Ajax places the bowl before Clotho. Pulling her head by her hair, ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} slits her throat without ceremony, letting her blood pour into to shaving bowl. After a few minutes of this, he laughs, and orders Ajax to fetch another one. "We have quite a font here, don't we?" #"As you command, ${new_orleans_quaestor_address}." *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %+5 *set independence %+15 *set compassion %+5 "Very good. Ajax, fetch my shaving bowl." Moments later, Ajax reappears with his master's shaving bowl. In the meantime, you have been doing your best to comfort Clotho, who is doing her best to not scream in terror. Ajax places the bowl before Clotho. ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} draws a blade from his waistcoat, and offers it to you. Taking it in your hand, you look deeply into the eyes of Clotho, silently mouthing an apology before pulling back her head and slitting her throat. You hold her head back for some time, watching the light go out from her eyes as her life-force drains into the shaving bowl. After a few minutes of this, ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} laughs, and order Ajax to fetch another one. "You have quite a font here, don't you?" Emptied of her life-force, Jesse drags Clotho's body to the outside garden, to be burnt up by the sunrise. While he is gone, ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} sniffs deeply of the collected blood. "Would you care for some? After all, it will be the last time you get to drink of it." At that, he begins to drink deeply from the shaving bowl. He pauses a moment and observes, "she really is quite delicious. I can see why you had such an affection for her," and with that, goes back to drinking. Estefania stands nearby, anxiously waiting her turn. The dawn rises on your broken heart. *page_break Your rest is filled with daymares. Visions of Clotho's death dance through your head as you slumber. When you awake, you are pushed to the edge of sanity with grief. You shortly find yourself at Clotho's apartment, and there *goto find_letter #I cannot. But, if you cannot turn her…well, if ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} finds out how much Clotho knows, both of you could be put to death. *choice #I have to do it. *goto embrace_clotho #Flee the city. *set discretion %-10 *goto flee_city #Kill her. *set compassion %+10 *set discretion %+10 With a terrible sadness, you look into her trusting eyes, and bend down to extinguish the light that you fell in love with. @{taste_for_vampire_blood |It is unfortunate, as her blood is sweeter than any you have ever known.} When you are done, you push her body into the river, an ignominious end to a transcendent affair. You retire to your haven. *page_break A few days later, *goto find_letter *if jesse_rapport > 35 *selectable_if (independence > 35) #I'll ask Jesse how I should go about this. *set jesse_rapport %+10 *set jesse_knows_about_clotho true Jesse clearly appreciates the fact that you are approaching him for advice, but seems a little disappointed that it wasn't immediately clear to you that of course you have to petition the quaestor for permission to give the gift to another. His remonstration complete, he turns the conversation to your relationship with this Clotho. For a moment you wonder if he might be a little jealous? *choice #I tell him that that she is a Voodoo priestess, who can provide us great influence among the mortals. *set discretion %-5 *set jesse_rapport %+5 "You show uncommon wisdom for one so young, dearest ${given_name}. It is my pleasure to share these nights with you." #I tell him that she has an exquisite taste, and I want to preserve it for the centuries. *set discretion %-5 *set compassion %+5 *set jesse_rapport %+5 "But giving her the gift will ruin that particular vintage. Then again, allowing her to grow old and grey will most likely do so as well. #I tell him that I am deeply in love with this woman. *set humility true *set discretion %+5 *set jesse_rapport %-5 "You are a fool, ${given_name}. Did my shaming teach you nothing?" "What do you mean?" "This is exactly what drove ${new_orleans_quaestor_address} and I apart: I fell in love with a mortal, and he decided that I needed to be taught a lesson in humility." "What sort of lesson?" "I should not speak more of this, other than to warn you that down this path lies only misery." Jesse refuses to say anything more on the matter. Your conversation with Jesse concluded, it is time to decide. *choice #I shall take her to see ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}. *set discretion %-5 *set independence %+10 *goto presenting_clotho #I need not ask leave of anyone! *set discretion %+10 *goto to_embrace_clotho *if humility #I must see Clotho immediately! What could Jesse have meant? Clotho listens to you as you relate your conversation with Jesse. When you have concluded, she seems at just as much of a loss as you, if not more so. "I know nothing of this Society, dearest ${given_name}. I can only put my trust in you and in our love. It is not our place to seek to change what has been written for us." *choice #I turn her into a vampire. *set independence %-20 *goto embrace_clotho *selectable_if (compassion > 40) #I kill her. *set compassion %+10 *set discretion %+10 With a terrible sadness, you look into her trusting eyes, and bend down to extinguish the light that you fell in love with. @{taste_for_vampire_blood |It is unfortunate, as her blood is sweeter than any you have ever known.} When you are done, you arrange for her body to be dumped in the river, an ignominious end to a transcendent affair. You retire to your haven. *page_break A few days later, *goto find_letter #We must flee the city! *set discretion %-10 *label flee_city Unable to curse her to an unlife of misery, but unwilling to kill her for your own sake, you decide it best to flee the city and seek refuge elsewhere. You order her to gather her things and meet you at your haven tomorrow evening at sundown. To sweet, sweet sleep… *page_break *if rationalism > 60 When you awake the following evening, it is to the thought that God must truly hate you. *elseif rationalism >= 40 When you awake the following evening, it is to the thought that, if God exists, then you can be sure that he hates you. *else The thought occurs to you when you awake the following evening that maybe the inclination among mortals and immortals alike to seek the source of their misfortune in the heavens may not be irrational as you once thought. At moments like these, it is easy to imagine a cruel deity devising such misery for you. Though she has avoided the peril of your fangs, a team of eight—pulling a visiting dignitary's coach—gets loose during the afternoon and tramples Clotho beneath its hooves as she was coming to join you. You come screaming out of your resting-place as soon as the sun sets. Arriving at the scene of the accident moments later, you push through the crowd which is milling around, staring at her mangled corpse. You fall to your knees, sobbing over what remains of her, your tears of blood camouflaged by her drying fluids. *page_break Later that night, seeking some sort of solace, *goto find_letter #I take her to see the quaestor. *set independence %+10 *goto presenting_clotho *if rios_rapport > 35 *selectable_if (independence > 40) #I'll ask Estefania how I should go about this. *set rios_rapport %+10 Estefania clearly appreciates the fact that you come to her for her advice. That said, she strongly recommends that you bring Clotho before ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} for permission. She arranges the moment for you. *goto presenting_clotho *label presenting_clotho *set clotho_presented true ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} pauses to consider your petition to grant immortality to Clotho before asking: "And what is this woman to you, ${mr} ${surname}?" If this weren't enough, you feel Jesse and Estefania's eyes boring into you. *label presenting_clotho_1 *choice *selectable_if (discretion > 30) #"She is my one true love. I ask this of you so that I may spend the rest of eternity with her." *set jesse_knows_about_clotho true *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-5 *set jesse_rapport %+5 *set discretion %+10 *if embrace_of_affection and (sire_alive and (sire_name != "West")) *if new_orleans_quaestor_rapport > 60 *set claim_of_love true You have never seen such rage in your maker. "You? In love? With this… mortal?" "I am." "And what of us? What am I to you? I who made you? Who has clothed you and taught you the ways of our kind. I who have loved you since you were still cursed to grow old and die?" "I love whom I love. You may curse me, you may kill me, but that shall not—nay, cannot—change the truth." "And you would die for this creature?" "I would." "Jesse, bring her before me! Ajax, my shaving things!" They scramble to fulfill their master's orders as quickly as possible. After a few minutes, Jesse leads Clotho in from one direct; from the other, Ajax appears bearing a shaving bowl, towel and straight razor. "You have a choice before you, my dearest," ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} hisses. You can almost hear Clotho's eyes widen from where you stand. "You can end her miserable existence, here and now," he says, gesturing to the straight razor, "or you can choose to have Jesse make her like us." *elseif sire_rapport >= 40 "You? In love with this…mortal?" "Yes." "Dearest ${given_name}, I knew that we had grown apart, but this? You would end our affair over one that still breathes?" "I would." "Jesse, would you bring her in here, please? Ajax, please fetch my straight razor." Jesse and Ajax leap into motion at these words. A few moments later, they appear from opposite ends of the room, each bearing their own charges. You grow increasingly nervous as the distance between these charges narrows. "You have humiliated me, ${given_name}, by choosing a piece of meat over me. And so you must choose how you will make this right. Either Jesse may make her one of us, or you may put an end to her life here and now." *else "Once upon a time, ${given_name}, I thought that we were in love. Now, however, you tell me that you are in love with this mortal?" "I do." "And have you given no thought to me in this?" "I thought us over, ${new_orleans_quaestor_address}." "Perhaps you did, but I did not." "I… I…" you stammer. "You did not expect for me to let you go so easily, did you? Of course not. Jesse, would you bring her in here, please? Ajax, please fetch my straight razor." Jesse and Ajax leap into motion at these words. A few moments later, they appear from opposite ends of the room, each bearing their own charges. You grow increasingly nervous as the distance between these charges narrows. "You have humiliated me, ${given_name}, by choosing a piece of meat over me. And so you must choose how you will appease me. Either Jesse may make her one of us, or you may put an end to her life here and now." *if rationalism > 60 What sort of choice is this? Kill her yourself, or condemn her soul to hell as a vampire? *choice #"This is not a choice you can force me to make!" "There is a part of me that hoped you would say that, ${given_name}." There is what seems to be an interminable pause while he fiddles with his straight razor. What could ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} have in store for you? You close your eyes for a moment, preparing yourself for what is to come. When you open them again, it is just as he speaks. "You are hereby exiled from New-Orleans, upon pain of death. Depart before the sun rises. I do not wish to ever lay eyes upon you again." "Yes, quaestor." At least you and Clotho will escape with your skin intact… "One other thing, ${given_name}," he says, standing. "Dispose of the corpse before you go." Turning, your eyes light upon Clotho, struggling to stop the blood that is spurting from her neck. An iron grip from Jesse and Estefania keep you from rushing to her side until it is too late. Your scream of anguish echoes through the city. *page_break Sobbing with rage and bloody sorrow, you drag her body to the carriage that brought the two of you here not two hours prior, smiling and laughing. With the assistance of that calloused soul that masquerades as your driver, you load Clotho's corpse and head towards the water. *page_break You arrive at the waterfront. From here, the body will slip down the river, as so many other corpses do. Perhaps it will be found, and a proper burial granted; perhaps it will be consumed by the churning plant and animal matter that exist beside and within the Father of Waters. But now you must flee. Dawn is coming soon, and if you are found in the city when the sun sets, there will be no more mercy from ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}. *set clothos_letter_in_karlstein true *set exiled_from_new_orleans true *set income /2 *set fubar_clotho true *set wealth /4 *set status -1 *page_break Next Chapter *goto_scene karlstein #"Give me the razor." *set compassion %+20 *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %+10 Clotho starts to shake, but Jesse holds her fast. You relieve Ajax of the burden of the razor. "Please, ${given_name}… no!" You advance towards her, implacable. Jesse's hand—on her forehead—pulls her head back, exposing her throat. In a gesture towards whatever mercy is left to her, you summon the courage to make the cut strong and deep. The blood pours from her neck uncontrollably. You watch in horror as Estefania, Jesse and ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} gather round, drinking what they can catch of it. When they finally let her body drop to the floor, ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} takes a moment to clean himself up, and then addresses you. "I am so glad to see that our love has remained true, dearest ${given_name}. Now, won't you clean up this mess?" *page_break Sobbing with rage and bloody sorrow, you drag her body to the carriage that brought the two of you here not two hours prior, smiling and laughing. With the assistance of that calloused soul that masquerades as your driver, you load Clotho's corpse and head towards the water. *page_break You arrive at the waterfront. From here, the body will slip down the river, as so many other corpses do. Perhaps it will be found, and a proper burial granted; perhaps it will be consumed by the churning plant and animal matter that exist beside and within the Father of Waters. *page_break A few days later, *goto find_letter #"Jesse, do as you are bidden." *if rationalism > 65 *set compassion %+10 *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %+5 Jesse smiles. He pulls her head back, exposing her neck. Clotho seeks out your gaze, a look of terror befalling her. "But, ${given_name}…" *goto jesse_embraces_clotho_2 *else ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} sighs deeply. "Mr. Whitaker, I trust that you recall when you made this same mistake." Jesse nods in affirmation, "That I do, dominus." "And what was the lesson that you had to learn?" "That being infatuated with your food was improper." *goto jesse_embraces_clotho #"She is an influential Voodoo Priestess; as one of us, she will be a powerful addition to the Society." *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %+5 *set discretion %-5 *set compassion %-5 "And you have no feelings for her yourself?" *choice #"Well, I…" "…I would appreciate the honor of turning her myself, ${new_orleans_quaestor_address}" "But you are too young, dear ${given_name}. Mr. Whitaker, on the other hand, he is ready to make another. Please, Sra. Rios, summon this Clotho woman." #"No, she means nothing to me." *set discretion %-5 *set compassion %+5 "Then you will not mind if Mr. Whitaker is the one who bestows the gift upon this Clotho?" A sideways glance catches Jesse licking his lips in anticipation. *fake_choice #"I protest! I was the one that found her, she should be my offspring!" "But you are too young, dear ${given_name}. Mr. Whitaker, on the other hand, he is ready to make another. Please, Sra. Rios, summon this Clotho woman." #"That is acceptable." *set compassion %+5 *set discretion %-5 "Very good, then. Please, Sra. Rios, call for Clotho." *label jesse_embraces_clotho A few moments later, Clotho is admitted into the room. When Jesse steps towards her, his fangs extended, Clotho seeks out your gaze, a look of terror befalling her. "But, ${given_name}…" *goto jesse_embraces_clotho_2 *if terroir #"She has the most intoxicating [i]terroir[/i]. I cannot imagine existing without its perfume on my palate." *set terroir false ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} laughs loudly. "I believe you have been spending too much time with dear Sra. Rios. I certainly cannot be blamed for the "refinement" of your "palate". But you should know, dear ${given_name}, once turned, that perfume will be no more." "I…I was not aware of that, ${new_orleans_quaestor_address}." "So young. So much still to learn. Whatever the case, I suspect that there is more to this than a simple affection for her…[i]terroir[/i]. And so I ask you again, why do you wish to turn her?" *goto presenting_clotho_1 *label jesse_embraces_clotho_2 *set jesse_embraced_clotho true *set clotho_ordered_killed true *choice #"There is nothing I can do, Clotho. It will be quick, and then we will be together forever…" *set compassion %-5 She looks at you. Into your eyes. With a deep breath, she lets go in the name of her love for you. "${given_name}," ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} says. Looking at him, he locks your gaze with his, and you find the power of his immortality holding you in your place. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jesse nearing Clotho, and your stomach sinks. #"Silence!" I must seem disinterested, else this will go poorly for both of us. *set discretion %-10 *set compassion %+5 She looks at you, shocked. You do your best to seem uncaring, but your heart breaks on the inside. "${given_name}," ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} says. Looking at him, he locks your gaze with his, and you find the power of his immortality holding you in your place. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jesse nearing Clotho, and your stomach sinks. #Intercede! I cannot allow this travesty to occur! *set discretion %+20 *set compassion %-20 *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-10 It seems that ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} anticipated your decision; almost before you'd concluded the thought, and having barely begun to move, you find him between you and your love. His gaze finds yours, and you feel the power of his immortality trying to hold you in your place. *if willpower >= 3 Drawing upon reserves deep within, you continue to struggle forward, slogging through the air like that deserter—your first prey—fled from you through the swamp and mud. For a moment, you imagine a flash of fear in the eyes of ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}, but then he resorts to lifting you off the ground, his hand around your throat. As you kick and snarl, he laughs at you: "You dare defy me! Then witness what you have wrought!" As soon as she saw you slowed, Clotho moved to flee, but Jesse is too fast for her; he takes her in his arms. *else He is, alas, too much for you. You find yourself unable to advance, frozen by his stare. His voice booms through the room: "You dare defy me! Then witness what you have wrought!" As soon as she saw you slowed, Clotho moved to flee, but Jesse is too fast for her; he takes her in his arms. *set jesse_rapport %-5 Jesse sinks his fangs into Clotho's neck. She issues a small shriek before the passion of the bite overcomes her; soon she is moaning in pleasure, even as the last of her life-force seeps past Jesse's lips. Jesse lets Clotho's body fall to the cypress floorboards. Finding yourself released, too late you rush to her side, searching for any sign of life. ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}'s voice pierces through your roiling emotions: "Child, you are so young. Someday you will come to understand that love is not for us. And certainly not between us and our food. In time, you will come to thank me. But for now, clean up this mess." The lesson imparted, ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} turns on his heel and exits the room, Jesse and Estefania hot on his heels. *page_break Sobbing with rage and bloody sorrow, you drag her body to the carriage that brought the two of you here not two hours prior, smiling and laughing. With the assistance of that calloused soul that masquerades as your driver, you load Clotho's corpse and head towards the water. *page_break You arrive at the waterfront. From here, the body will slip down the river, as so many other corpses do. Perhaps it will be found, and a proper burial granted; perhaps it will be consumed by the churning plant and animal matter that exist beside and within the Father of Waters. *goto looking_within Jesse sinks his fangs deep into her neck. She issues a small shriek before the passion of the bite overcomes her; soon she is moaning in pleasure, even as the last of her life-force seeps past Jesse's lips. Quickly, he bites his own wrist. He puts it to her mouth, forcing his blood down her throat. A few agonizing moments later, her eyes begin to flutter, and her lips begin to suck at the wound. Soon, she is fully awake and hungry. "Now, Jesse, won't you escort this abomination to the garden?" "The garden?" you scream? "But…you said…" "There are too many vampires in New-Orleans already. We cannot stand another. And, as quaestor, it is my duty to put an end to any threat to the Society in my city. You may stay and watch her burn, if you like." Jesse has stopped the flow of blood to Clotho, who is now little more than an animal. She grunts and pulls at his arms, clearly angling for Ajax, the only mortal in the room. "Dear Jesse, please see to her sentence." "Yes, quaestor." Jesse takes the struggling Clotho upstairs. *choice #I follow and watch her last moments. *set compassion %+5 When it becomes clear that you intend to go with Jesse and Clotho, ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} gesture for Estafania to go as well. It seems that you will have a chaperone. The three of you make your way to the garden. Clotho does her best to stand up straight. When you arrive, Jesse offers you the necessary tools, and directs you to tie her to the ground. Tears of blood stream down your face as you tie the knots. She watches you patiently. To your surprise, there is no fear in her eyes. "My love…" she says. "I…I'm sorry…" you say. She shakes her head, but you can't hear the rest of her words; the sun is already rising. You flee into the shadows with Jesse and Estafania, and from there you can watch as the light begins to lick at her feet. Soon, they have begun to smoke and sizzle, and her screams etch themselves into your memory. @{(jesse_rapport > 40) Jesse puts his arm around you, attempting some small gesture of comfort.|} It is a slow death. And an excruciating one. It takes over an hour for the rays to become concentrated enough for her to truly ignite; the dappled shade from the trees above are no mercy for her. When it is over, you slip into your carriage and return home, almost enjoying the searing sensation of the morning light on your skin. #I flee this travesty. *set discretion %-5 You run from the house, sobbing tears of blood. You have been betrayed, and with the rising of the sun, your love will be no more. @{((rationalism > 60) and (religious_tradition != "pagan")) What is worse is the knowledge that there will be no reunion in heaven. Having become a vampire, her soul will now burn for eternity.|} *page_break *label looking_within Looking within yourself, you must decide how you will deal with this loss. *choice #Forget her. It was but a passing fancy. *set compassion %+10 Probably a wise choice. As you have seen so clearly now, there is nothing that immortality does not bring to ruin. Why should your love for her have been any different? And yet… Some nights pass, during which the daymares are incessant. You cannot put her out of your mind. Seeking some sort of closure, #Cherish her memory, but respect the lesson that you have been taught. *set independence %+10 Probably a wise choice. As you have seen so clearly now, there is nothing that immortality does not bring to ruin. Why should your love for her have been any different? *page_break Struck by a passing fancy, #Tend the fires of your rage. *set discretion %+10 *set compassion %-5 You are inconsolable. The crimes that have been perpetrated against you and your love are unforgivable. What is the value of eternity, if you are denied your true love? Now is not the time to act; you recognize that. But some day, you will have your revenge on ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}. Until then, you will husband your anger, a glowing coal to be preserved until the time that it can be used to set the world aflame. *page_break Seeking some sort of meaning or closure, *label find_letter you find yourself going through what remains of Clotho's things. It is with some surprise that you happen upon what seems to be a letter addressed to you. *if literate Reading it, the sound of her voice fills your head and your withered heart. *goto read_letter *else Though you cannot read, you have learnt to identify your own name. You stuff the letter in your pocket, and resolve to find someone to read it for you. The question of whom you should approach plagues you for several nights. *page_break *goto illiterate *label read_letter *set love_clotho true *achieve clotho [i]@{male Mon cher|Ma chère} ${given_name},[/i] [i]@{clotho_presented I go with you tonight to see the quaestor with no fear in my breast. It has been made clear to me what will come to pass there, but so is it written, and so must it be done. As you demonstrate, death is not as simple as many believe.|As I dreamed of your coming, so too have I dreamed of my all-too imminent departure. This is not our time for peace, but I remind you of this: life and death are not as simple as we have been taught to believe.}[/i] [i]And so I say to you, do not fear for us. I know that a love such as ours may be hindered by neither the rivers Styx nor Lethe. Until I hold you in my arms again, I remain,[/i] [i]Your once and future love,[/i] *line_break [i]Clotho[/i] You read the letter again and a third time, hoping to glean something more than what it has already said. In time, however, you carefully fold it and stow it where it will be safe. *goto response_to_letter *label illiterate *temp response *set response 0 Unfortunately, if you bring this to a mortal, and it contains something explicit about vampires, you may be forced to kill the person who reads it to you. Yet, if you go to a vampire…well, who knows what ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} might say were you to ask him to read it to you. *choice #M. Hébert, who was so kind as to introduce me to Clotho. *set response 1 Yves is happy to read the letter for you. *goto letter_read #Jesse. *set response 2 *if jesse_embraced_clotho *if jesse_rapport < 50 *set jesse_rapport %-20 Jesse fingers the letter you have given him while he considers your request. Apparently, whatever consideration he was offering amounts to naught, as begins to laugh in your face. "That piece of rotting flesh? You want me to read you a letter that she wrote?" "Yes, Mr. Whitaker, I do." In a movement too fast to see, Jesse tears the letter to shreds. "You are a fool, and I will not indulge your foolishness. Now go, and let us speak of this no more." You retreat to your haven to tend the fires of your rage. *finish Next *else *set jesse_rapport %+10 Jesse pauses, the letter in hand. For a brief moment you imagine that you might see a slight bloodmist in his eyes, but he quickly blinks it away. Clearing his throat, he begins to read the letter. *goto letter_read *elseif character_embraced_clotho *if jesse_rapport < 50 *set jesse_rapport %-20 Jesse fingers the letter you have given him while he considers your request. Apparently, whatever consideration he was offering amounts to naught, as begins to laugh in your face. "That piece of rotting flesh? You want me to read you a letter that she wrote?" "Yes, Mr. Whitaker, I do." In a movement too fast to see, Jesse tears the letter to shreds. "You are a fool, and I will not indulge your foolishness. Now go, and let us speak of this no more." You retreat to your haven to tend the fires of your rage. *finish Next *else *set jesse_rapport %+10 Jesse pauses, the letter in hand. For a brief moment you imagine that you might see a slight bloodmist in his eyes, but he quickly blinks it away. Clearing his throat, he begins to read the letter. *goto letter_read *else *if jesse_rapport >= 40 Jesse pauses, the letter in hand. For a brief moment you imagine that you might see a slight bloodmist in his eyes, but he quickly blinks it away. Clearing his throat, he begins to read the letter. *goto letter_read *else Jesse accepts the letter that you offer to him, before turning and snarling at you: "${mr} ${surname}, have you not learnt that we should not truck with mortals in this way?" "I'm sorry?" In a movement too fast to see, Jesse tears the letter to shreds. "What I said was, you are a fool, and I will not indulge your foolishness. Now go, and let us speak of this no more." You retreat to your haven to tend the fires of your rage. *finish Next #Estefania. *set response 3 *if jesse_embraced_clotho *if rios_rapport >= 50 *set rios_rapport %+10 "I would be delighted to read it for you, dearest ${given_name}!" *goto letter_read *else *set rios_rapport %-10 "${mr} ${surname}! I cannot be a party to this! ${new_orleans_quaestor_address} has already made his feelings on this matter sufficiently transparent!" "But I need to know what her words say!" "No! Let it pass!" she exclaims, ripping the letter from your hands and throwing it into the fireplace. You reach to rescue it, but it the fire suddenly flares in response to this new offering. You can only watch as the letter turns to ash and drifts up through the chimney. You retreat to your haven to tend the fires of your rage. *finish Next *elseif character_embraced_clotho *if rios_rapport >= 50 *set rios_rapport %+10 "I would be delighted to read it for you, dearest ${given_name}!" *goto letter_read *else *comment This line intentionally left blank for equivalence. *set rios_rapport %-10 "${mr} ${surname}! I cannot be a party to this! ${new_orleans_quaestor_address} has already made his feelings on this matter sufficiently transparent!" "But I need to know what her words say!" "No! Let it pass!" she exclaims, ripping the letter from your hands and throwing it into the fireplace. You reach to rescue it, but it the fire suddenly flares in response to this new offering. You can only watch as the letter turns to ash and drifts up through the chimney. You retreat to your haven to tend the fires of your rage. *finish Next *else *set rios_rapport %+10 "I would be delighted to read it for you, dearest ${given_name}!" *goto letter_read #${new_orleans_quaestor_surname}. *set response 4 *if jesse_embraced_clotho *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-10 "Do you jest, ${mr} ${surname}?" "No, ${new_orleans_quaestor_address}." "This is what I think of your request," he says, at he tears it to shreds. You can only watch in shock as Clotho's last words are obliterated. "Go, and let us not speak of this again." You retreat to your haven to tend the fires of your rage. *finish Next *elseif character_embraced_clotho *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-10 "Do you jest, ${mr} ${surname}?" "No, ${new_orleans_quaestor_address}." "This is what I think of your request," he says, at he tears it to shreds. You can only watch in shock as Clotho's last words are obliterated. "Go, and let us not speak of this again." You retreat to your haven to tend the fires of your rage. *finish Next *elseif (jesse_embraced_clotho = false) and ((character_embraced_clotho = false) and (new_orleans_quaestor_rapport >= 50)) ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} looks at you with irritation. "I'll never understand why you young ones insist on having relations with mortals." "But, will you read the letter to me!" "Yes, yes…let me see now… *goto letter_read *else *set new_orleans_quaestor_rapport %-10 "Do you jest, ${mr} ${surname}?" "No, ${new_orleans_quaestor_address}." "This is what I think of your request," he says, at he tears it to shreds. You can only watch in shock as Clotho's last words are obliterated. "Go, and let us not speak of this again." You retreat to your haven to tend the fires of your rage. *finish Next *selectable_if (wealth > 1000) #A professional scribe. *set response 5 *set wealth -100 *set discretion %-10 For a small fee, you hire a solicitor to read the letter to you. *goto letter_read *label letter_read *set love_clotho true [i]@{male Mon cher|Ma chère} ${given_name},[/i] [i]@{clotho_presented I go with you tonight to see the quaestor with no fear in my breast. It has been made clear to me what will come to pass there, but so is it written, and so must it be done. As you demonstrate, death is not as simple as many believe.|As I dreamed of your coming, so too have I dreamed of my all-too imminent departure. This is not our time for peace, but I remind you of this: life and death are not as simple as we have been taught to believe.}[/i] [i]And so I say to you, do not fear for us. I know that a love such as ours may be hindered by neither the rivers Styx nor Lethe. Until I hold you in my arms again, I remain,[/i] [i]Your once and future love,[/i] *line_break [i]Clotho[/i] *if response = 1 *if clotho_presented *if charm > 2 It is a simple thing for you to convince Yves that the term quaestor is just poetic license, much as her reference to the rivers of Hades. His curiosity satiated, you take your leave of him. *goto response_to_letter *else Unfortunately, you have found yourself in a dangerous position. The reference to the quaestor—and Yves's question regarding its significance—puts you an uncomfortable situation. *fake_choice #Kill Yves. *set exposure +2 *set compassion %+20 *set discretion %-10 When you are done, you slip his body into the river. #Let him go, and hope for the best. *set discretion %+10 Uncomfortable, but unwilling to simply kill the poor fellow for reading the letter to you, you simply take your leave. #Confide your problem in Estefania. She introduced you, after all. *set independence %+10 *set rios_rapport %+10 She is distressed to hear of your problem. She tells you, however, that Yves can be trusted, and not to worry. *goto response_to_letter *else Yves smiles at the thought of Clotho before returning the letter to you. "She was a dear." You nod slightly, and then take your leave of him. *goto response_to_letter *if response = 2 *set story_of_jesse_in_haiti true Jesse returns the letter to you. "You tread a difficult path, my friend." "Am I to presume that it is one with which you are familiar?" "I am. ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} forced me to slay my mortal mistress. That is why I left, all those decades ago." "And why did you come back?" "I came to realize that he was right." After pausing to consider this, you thank him again for the favor, and take your leave. *goto response_to_letter *if response = 3 Estefania returns the letter to you, her eyes wide. "This is from that Clotho woman?" "Yes, Sra. Rios, it is." "It was very daring of you to bring this to me." "Yes, Sra. Rios." "I suppose, then it was good that you worked to earn my favor. Let us keep this between the two of us, shall we?" "I would appreciate that greatly, Sra. Rios." "Good evening to you, then, dear ${given_name}." *goto response_to_letter *if response = 4 ${new_orleans_quaestor_surname} returns the letter to you with a sneer. "It is just as well that she is dead. No profit could ever come from such an affair." Biting your tongue, you simply thank him for the favor and take your leave. *goto response_to_letter *if response = 5 @{clotho_presented The solicitor has better sense than to ask after the significance of some of these words. You make it very clear to him that you hired him for his discretion.|The solicitor smiles at the sentiments expressed by the letter before returning it to your hands. Dropping a few coins in his, you take your leave of him.} *goto response_to_letter *else *bug *label response_to_letter During your return to your haven, you consider the contents of the letter. *choice *selectable_if (rationalism <= 60) #This is nonsense. The dead cannot return from the grave. *set rationalism %-10 *set compassion %+5 You are, as always, eminently rational. *choice #Burn the letter. You watch dispassionately as the flames lick the edge of the letter. Soon only ash remains, and then even that is discarded the following evening. Something like normalcy returns over the next few months. *finish Next #Keep it. *set kept_clotho_letter true *set rationalism %+5 You are unsure as to why, but you feel compelled to retain the letter. Perhaps someday it will remind you that you have not lost the last shreds of your humanity. Something like normalcy returns over the next few months. *finish Next #I do not understand what she means, but I shall watch for her return. *set rationalism %-5 *set compassion %-5 Probably a prudent response. *choice #Burn the letter. You watch dispassionately as the flames lick the edge of the letter. Soon only ash remains, and then even that is discarded the following evening. Something like normalcy returns over the next few months. *finish Next #Keep it. *set kept_clotho_letter true *set rationalism %+5 Sentimental, aren't we? Something like normalcy returns over the next few months. *finish Next *if drained_clotho #Does she mean that she will seek revenge for her own murder? *set rationalism %+10 How could she have known that you intended to kill her? You didn't even know. Maybe her powers were greater than you realized. *choice #Burn the letter. You watch dispassionately as the flames lick the edge of the letter. Soon only ash remains, and then even that is discarded the following evening. Constantly watching over your shoulder, the next few months nonetheless pass quietly… *finish Next #Keep it. *set kept_clotho_letter true *set rationalism %+5 Sentimental, aren't we? Constantly watching over your shoulder, the next few months nonetheless pass quietly… *finish Next *else #Oh happy nights! Our love will conquer death itself! *set rationalism %+15 *set compassion %-10 *set kept_clotho_letter true Somehow, Clotho has conquered time and death itself. Clearly, her powers were greater than you realized. Some day soon, she shall hold you in her arms once again. You wait and wait, but with each passing night you become more and more disappointed that Clotho has not reappeared as she promised. You consult her letter regularly, seeking some clue as to the moment of her return. Again and again you ask the night whether you will ever see her again. No answer is forthcoming. *finish Next *label desc_pitot At some point you inquire as to the ownership of the plantation. "It belongs to M. Pitot!" "M. Pitot?" "Yes. When he was president of the jury, he raised the colored militia that fought at the Battle." *comment police jury is the supreme authority at the county/parish level in Louisiana. President would be something like "county supervisor." "Oh, that M. Pitot," you reply. "My father was one of those who joined up to defend this city." *choice #"You must be very proud." *set discretion %+3 "I would prefer to have my father." "What do you mean?" "He died during the battle." "I'm sorry to hear that." She looks into the middle distance. "It was his choice. I'm merely sad that he did not consider its impact on the rest of us." #"He fought to to defend this country? Why would he do that?" *set justice %-5 She looks into the middle distance. "I've been asking myself that for ten years." "What do you mean?" "He died in the Battle." "I'm sorry to hear that." "As sorry as I am to say it," she replies. #"What happened?" *set discretion %-5 "He died. In the Battle. It was foolish, really." "I'm sorry to hear that." "As sorry as I am to say it," she replies. After a moment she refocuses on you. "And that is how I met M. Pitot. When he came to offer his condolences." "To M. Pitot, then," you say, raising a glass. "To M. Pitot," she toasts. Of course, you have to pour out your glass when she isn't looking—but about that she seems none-the-wiser. *return