VAMPIRE THE MASQUERADE

KNOW THINE ENEMY

"So, that's it then?"

In the large master's bedroom- a large, almost empty room filled only with a fairly large, black coffin and a large, ornately carved chair and lit only by the light of the waxing moon- Christof, seated on the chair and Sylvester standing right beside him, were plotting on how to uncover what could be a very huge scandal for the Camarilla, perpetuated by the prince of the city himself.

"Yes, it is." Sylvester replied, a bit fearfully. "He did manage to spurt out only a few incomprehensible noises before he burned away completely, but what we heard from some of his childer was that the prince was 'out to get him'. Personally I believe that he knew something he wasn't supposed to know, but I can't pinpoint what."

"Personally," Christof replied. "I believe his current actions have something to do with that sarcophagus."

"The sarcophagus?" Sylvester looked perplexed. "Well, I have heard rumours of the sarcophagus containing an old kindred. But I don't get it. Isn't it banned...?"

"It hardly matters to him whether it is illegal or not." Christof cut in. "He wishes to diablerize the ancient that possibly sleeps in that box in order to gain its powers."

Sylvester kept silent. Of all the crimes against the Camarilla, diablerie-consuming the blood of another vampire until death, then consuming its soul-was one of the most grievous. The fact that the prince would want to do such was a huge scandal, and the accusation Christof was making was a heavy one indeed.

When he finally gathered the willpower to speak, he addressed Christof. "So what do we do? Should we alert the other primogen, so they can call in a Justicar?"

"No, not yet." He responded, much to Sylvester's dismay. "The sarcophagus has been stolen correct?"

"Uh, well, yes."

"This means LaCroix has suffered a major setback in his plans. He is skittish, nervous. If we act now he may hastily cover up all his actions. Normally this would be an advantage, but we lack any conclusive evidence. Besides, he is the prince."

"So, what do we do know?" said Sylvester, a bit sceptically.

"We wait. Wait for him to think that all is well again and let his guard down." Christof moved ever so slightly in his chair. "Besides, we have an inside man."

"Inside man?" Sylvester sounded confused, then spurted as the realization dawned on him. "Wait, you mean Liz-uh, Elizabeth? Should we let her in on it? I mean, if she..."

"No, not yet." Christof responded, a bit sharply, which caused Sylvester to flinch. "Her mind is open to him. If we reveal our plan to her, he may know it in time. Fortunately he doesn't seem to have blood bound her, which makes him a fool." With that he stood up, the grim, solid expression on his face unchanging. "I will take care of that."

With that, he left the room, leaving Sylvester with mixed feelings of bewilderment and worry.

Liz stood up weakly, reeling from Christof's blow. Despite the fact that she had blocked the blow with her arms, it still sent her flying back several metres and landing on her back, not to mention it hurt like hell. She was sure some of the bones in her arms were broken. After she used her blood to heal the wounds, she straightened herself to face Christof, a look of annoyance on her face. "We've been doing this for the past three weeks. Care to explain why?" She paused, hesitating a bit, then continued. "All you give me as an answer is that... weird stare you keep giving me... but I want a conclusive answer this time."

To her slight relief, the expression on his face did not change at all. Then he spoke "The world of the kindred is a dangerous place. If you are unable to defend yourself, you will not last long, as proven by your brief encounter with the Sabbat three weeks ago."