Updated: 9 May 1998
Prelude
A lone man walking in the middle of the night near the Seine was nothing special in Parisian summer. The City of Light was beautiful, as always. It was the first time he got back. In facts the last time he saw Paris, he was a 35 years-old mature man.
Now it was different: Ten years after, his appearance was still the same. He disappeared while driving. The "Gendarmerie" only found his car, crashed after a 40 meters' fall. No one inside.
He had still difficulties to remember what happened after the shock: A soft voice, and softer hands. Liquid fire burning his throat and keeping what little life remained in his limbs.
He was a Vampire, now. A Kindred, as they call themselves. But he wasn't really one of them. The Kindred had a strange viewpoint about the significance of "kindred". They fought each other viciously, they hold in contempt those without a Clan, calling them bastards, caitiffs or weak blood.
He didn't believe in God, but now, he had to think over the ruins of the cartesian life he believed he lived. His powers weren't explained by science alone. At least, not now, whispered his conscience. Yes... He was a physics Teacher. He had a doctorate of Fundamental Physics.
The newcommer seemed to be drowned by personnal thoughts. He was a common man, of common appearance. Nothing in his clothes, or in his face told he was Kindred. But his Aura spoke clearly, as well as his uncommon agility. Ahmed knew he didn't come from Paris, and that was the point: It would be an interesting hunt, as the newcommer didn't seem interested in joining the Louvre, the known Haven of Fran�ois Villon, the Prince of Paris and France... No one will miss the Caitiff, and if some problem arises, he would tell he thought he was Sabbat...
''Hey! You!''
The man looked behind him. A tall man, of oriental origins. He was in the middle of a group of buildings, somewhere in the subburbs. No one around but this strange man with too much assurance for his own good. Unless he was...
''Yes! I'm talking to you!''
''Yes?''
''You're crossing my territory... Do you have cash?''
The man didn't understood the what the arab asked him, but he understood what he wanted: He was teacher ten years ago, and by what he heard, the situation with the teens had aggravated.
''No...''
The oriental shook slowly his head. He only wanted a sample of blood from this Caitiff. He would use it to cover his own evidence: Villon will kill the one who did what Ahmed wanted to do with his dear artwork, and Ahmed had to frame someone for that. Too bad for the Caitiff, but such was the life... He smiled.He took the gun and aimed at the poor guy... But faster than he thought, the guy fled. Damn Celerity!
Ahmed was a Brujah, and he knew Celerity too, and this guy was climbing the stairs in a building controled by Ahmed. He would find no help. The Arab Kindred smiled as he run behind the poor wretch: He had to immobilise him before he used all his blood!
The poor guy was on the roof, and had no choice now but fight... No one to help him, and no way out but the "great fall".
''I don't want to fight you... I must see the Lady... The Lady of the Gangrel...''
Ahmed remained silent. A Gangrel? It was a little more dangerous than a Caitiff, but this one seemed young enough, and lost...
''I can show you where to find her: Come with me...''
The smile on the face of the Arab didn't please the man. He knew the little whelp didn't believed of his own words. He walked near the border, and didn't look impressed. Ahmed raised his gun, but as soon as he aimed the guy, he had disappeared. Damn him, he thought. He run near the border, looking down, believing he was trying to outsmart a Brujah.
The surprise was total: The poor guy was on the floor, seventy
meters under the Brujah! A fall of seventy meters, and he was
there, standing like nothing had happened!
And then, Ahmed saw his eyes: Green, cat-like pupils burning in
the darkness of the night!
Then the poor guy disappeared.
Being discovered by a Kindred wasn't really important: Even if he seemed to know where to find the Lady, even if he didn't want to help him. Tiny claws lengthened from his digits. By the shout he heard, the Oriental was a Brujah, who would be running down by the stairs using his own blood by powering his Celerity. He would be on for a surprise...
So he would find the Lady of the Gangrel... He smiled... Perhaps after contacting her, he would find the courage to look after his own family...
Chapter 1: History & Myth
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