Vagas - The "Anarch"

[badkarma]

Staring at the Isola De San Michele, Vagas holds the wrapped up body of the kindred he had staked at the docks hours before. He had staked the man, due to what he implied to know. Secrets that only he himself had known, or had believed to until this enigmatic kindred approached him in the docks. Speaking of "Dangerous Paths" that he walks, giving up nothing but riddles to questions the Nosferatu had asked. Leaving the docks with the staked man under arm, Vagas had moved slowly, carefully. Despite the confidence in his Obfuscation, he knew that it would only take a single other kindred to spot him to make the scenario even worse than it already was. The hours skulking through Venice giving him time to contemplate the potentials, the possibilities. An unknown kindred, with an unknown amount of information about him. A memory that came flashing into his mind after staking the Cassandra. One that made no sense but he knew to be true. His aura of silence on the entire time he traveled masked the sounds of their footsteps, masked any sound they would make along their travel.

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Esmeralda hidden from view, Vagas standing on a balcony looking down to a city in the night. The moon bright and full in the sky.



She says to him, from the shadows, "You should trust this seer. He too can change faces. The Cassandras lean towards the Camarilla because the tower uses them and protects them but this one, well, he leans closer to you. The rabble-rouser spends his nights with another outcast of the Pious prince, in the docks and will approach you to make a deal. You are surrounded by the Camarilla. Don't do something stupid."
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The memory was real. Though it made no sense to him as he skulked with this Cassandra under his arm through the darkened streets of Venice. He has a superb memory, but perhaps in the centuries that had passed, he had forgotten. The problem was also that the last time he had met Esmerelda was centuries past. Centuries before the advent of the Camarilla. And nearly every time they had met towards their final meetings, had been done below ground. One of his most memorable times with her being right before he and Anna left Constantinople for Venice. The meeting where she told him to "Find a fool." 

As they traveled, he contemplated the potentials, the options he had on hand.
- Kill the Cassandra, or Diablerie. 

Devouring the kindred would stain his soul. A blatant signal that he had turned to the side of the Anarchs. The Anarchs, something he had considered but did not consider himself a part of. While he hated the Dux Lanzo, even fantasized about driving a stake into the mans heart himself. Vagas crossed the river to the Isle, the mans body on the floor of the boat they crossed on. 

Looking out over the water as he pushed the small craft along, he imagined leaving the kindred on the vehicle, and letting the sunrise greet him. The aura of silence from his obfuscation making his passage almost, serene. The thought crosses his mind a few times as he makes it across. On the Isle, he searches for a place, a cave, a hole an open grave, in which to keep the body. Bringing it back to his haven was the easiest place to store it, but if this kindred was someone worth his sire telling him to seek out hundreds of years prior, then he was likely someone powerful, someone connected. 

And connected people always have contingencies. Failing to find anyplace to stuff the body, Vagas brought the unknown to his haven. The cloak and silence of his obfuscation causing Rodrigue to start but be unheard as he cried out. Not being the first time he had seen his master enter with a staked kindred, Rodrigue understood when he could no longer hear anything of what was going on. 

Placing the body in his own stone coffin, Vagas goes to feed from Rodrigue, the ghoul putting up no resistance as his master takes some of his vitae. After, Vagas feeling the weight of the day sleep incoming, feeds the unknown kindred his own vitae, beginning the blood bonding process. Sealing the coffin over him before setting himself to sleep atop of it for the days slumber. 

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The next morning, due to his time having Rodrigue help him stay awake until just before the sun rises, and be awakened just after it sets, Vagas arises before most kindred do. Recreating the aura of silence, he spends the blood to keep it in place, deafening all sounds to the coffin in the off chance the malkavian was also awake at the same time he had.

Leaving to feed, as his own reserves of vitae are drained from the engagement the night prior. Vagas considers the alternatives:
Kill, consume or unstake and trust the unknown kindred. The options go back and forth through his mind as he makes his way back into his haven once more. Rodrigue taking a break after finishing the hidden escape passage out of the haven. 

Vagas sits in his library, reading through some of the journals he'd written. Going over some of the esoteric he had encountered. Coming across something he remembered: A conversation from Rodrigue, where he had mentioned that he wanted to one day become kindred. 

Closing the journal, Vagas looks up from the pages, to the room where he knows Rodrigue rests. Considering the prior possibilities, Vagas calls his ghoul to his side. 

"Rodrigue. I must.... Apologize. I found you a suitable ghoul to fulfill the reward I intended for you, but I believe... another opportunity may be presenting itself and I believe it is time for me to increase your... education."


Rodrigue eyes Vagas, "I know these things take time my lord. I figured you would not back down from what you've said, but, what has happened? What is this, opportunity you speak of ser? Education?"

Vagas forms a thin smile across his face. "What do you know of kindred fortitude Rodrigue?"

"I am stronger than a mortal, I am a ghoul, and a kindred is stronger than I am" He answers simply. Something he knew his master would give a nod too. 

Vagas nods. "But have you ever tested the limits, of how much punishment a kindreds body can take? How much perhaps... your own body might some day take?"

The old hunters eyes widen. "I've used a sword to fight kindred, sometimes at your side, but not to test the limits of their endurance master, you would know this."

"I do, and tonight, I think you will learn some more of what you might one day become Rodrigue. Do you know what happens to a kindred when they are staked?"

"They are immobilized ser. A kindred can't do anything while they are staked. Like they are asleep."

Vagas holds up an elongated finger, wagging it slowly from side to side, tutting. "That.... is only partially correct Rodrigue. When a kindred is staked, he is immobile yes, but they are conscious.. They can hear, they can see, feel and think. They can't move, and they can not spend their vitae to activate their disciplines. However, some, do not have those same requirements. That is also why I left my aura of silence active over that ones body in the other room. Just in case he can still hear."

Pointing to the room where the staked kindred is being kept. "Imagine, being conscious, but unable to move your body, seeing whatever your eyes were faced towards, hearing whatever was around you. It would be, torture, wouldn't you agree?"

The ghoul nods simply "It does sound as such yes. Do you intent to torture that one?"

Vagas grunts slightly. "Believe it or not, Rodrigue. That may be someone my own sire told me about long ago. Someone I should trust, someone that would ally themselves with me. However, I know nothing of him, and he knew way too much of me. So he was either very powerful, or there is someone out there who knows more about me than they should. And so, I've come to the conclusion Rodrigue." 

Letting there be silence for a few moments, he continues. "Tonight, you will learn of the undead fortitude of a kindred first hand. You will beat that kindred in the next room into torpor with your bare hands. You should not worry about meeting him with final death, as using bare fists is fairly ineffective against a body that does not bleed. 

Rodrigue, just nods. Not entirely sure what to do, but the curiosity, the lessons and the suggestion that he'd one day become one like his master drive him forward. 

Opening the coffin, the silence is still active, the stillness of the unknown sitting in the coffin as Vagas exams his body. The stake still embedded in his heart, Vagas looks at his ghoul, motioning for him to speak outside the deafening silence of his aura. 

"He's only hurt from the staking. Go in there, and beat upon the body until I motion for you to stop. Do not aim for his head, or his heart, and he will be near impossible to permanently kill him." 

Nodding, the ghoul goes over to the body, standing outside the coffin to one side. Observing the unknown kindred for a few moments before looking back to his master.

Vagas motioning the ghoul to 'carry on', and so, he does. A punch, and then another. Many more follow, and Rodrigue takes some pleasure in the act. At one point Vagas motions for the ghoul to stop, so that he can observe the body again. Rodrigues fists are rock hard from working on the tunnels and the stone underground for years. As Vagas examines his ghouls work, he smiles at Rodrigue, thinking the unknown kindred had some fortitude left in him, he steps off to the side once again, motioning for Rodrigue to continue. 

As the ghoul approaches the side of the coffin, Vagas stands at the head of it, with his lantern in hand. When the fist comes up to strike back down, the body begins to crumple, to turn into dust as though it had met final death. Rodrigue tries to pull back and let out a sound of surprise, only to have it muffled out by the aura of silence still looming over them. 

Watching this unfold, Vagas' lip curls in derision as the body turns to ash. He knows that it was not Rodrigues fault, but not 'what' was the cause. 

Allowing his obfuscation to drop, he simply says to his servant.
"Well then, I suppose you can see first hand what happens to a kindreds body when they meet final death after being 'alive' for so long. Fret not Rodrigue, this was not your doing. Something else, cause this one to pass on. But take this for the lesson that it is. Every one of us will one day meet this same fate. It is not so much a question of if, so much as when and how."

As the body continues to crumble, Rodrigue observes, stealing a glance at Vagas from time to time. 
Vagas himself, shakes his head as he reaches down, lifting up a handful of ash from what was once the corpse.

"Shame. I suppose this ruins the next lesson I had planned as well."

[badkarma]

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She wore plain clothes, Esmerelda still as a statue below ground, dozens if not hundreds of rats crawling about her lap as she listened to the sound of approaching footsteps. They moved quietly, and the sounds of the rats would have masked them to the average kindred but Esmeralda could tell the length of a pin by the sound it made dropping in a pitch black room.

As Vagas and Anna, approaching through the tunnels below Constantinople. They spoke for a time, Anna clear in her conviction to protect "The Dream" and to preserve the ancient libraries the Tzimice kept protected, she eventually leaves the two Nosferatu alone for a private discussion.

"You've done well Vagas, finding an ally in Anna. She's smart, and she's strong. But...."

"She's young. Like me." Vagas adds with a chuckle, anticipating his Sires words.

Her stone like face breaks into a smile, her tone staying level, she says with no emotion. "You're a romantic. And that's always been your greatest weakness Vagas. I warned you when you became involved with Provvi. What would happen."

Vagas looks away from her, trying to stoke the snarl that creeps up on the half of his face hidden from his sire.

"Vagas, I know it pains you still. You are new to the path I've taught you. What you feel now, is the remnants of your humanity, the shreds of it still clinging to the fringes of your unbeating heart. And on the one hand, that is not good to still have. However..."

Lifting up a rat, she speaks to it in its native tongue. The squeeks shared between them only half comprehensible to Vagas at the time. Esmerelda chuckles before putting the creature down, it stays on her lap, the other rats avoiding that space as though it were this particular rats personal throne.

"What you need, is a fool."

Vagas turning to face his superior once more, arching an eyebrow at the statement. His question might as well had been written across his face, "A fool?"

"Emperors, Kings, Warlords, and these days, even priests all gain great power. That power, grows their ego, makes them believe that they are infallible, indestructible, immortal." Another short chuckle.

"What they forget, is that before they came into their positions of power, they were just mortals. Men, Women, even our own kind can die. Gaining power does not change that. And in order to remember that, what many keep, is "a fool".

Someone who can, in theory, say whatever they want to anyone they want. To remind their master that they, are far from indestructible.

Of course,...."

She says as she lifts the same rat back up in her fist. Turning it over in her hand, he cants her head looking at it as it squeaks.

"Of course, if a fool speaks out of turn, or oversteps its own bounds..." Clenching her fist, the rat barely having a chance to squeal as it bursts like a grape. Blood and viscera coating her arm, the remnants dropped down into the moving rug of rats below at her feet, being devoured by the hungry animals that shove and shuffle to eat what they can.

"And that's why, a fool is valuable, yet expendable. Find yourself a fool, Vagas. It will keep you alive."

Vagas looks to where the moving ground of rats swarm, devouring the remnants of the crushed fool. Listening to Esmerelda and her words. The hundreds of years of her unlife apparent in her wisdom. He recites her words, over and over in his own mind. Trying to imprint it to his memory.

After a few minutes of silence between them, only the ambient sound of the rats feasting filling the air between them.

A slight smile crossing his features, Vagas finally breaks. "A fool.... is that why you've kept me?"

"Normally, I'd have kept you as my ghoul for some time. My pet. Testing you until you either broke or I decided if you were worthy. I only needed to watch you for three nights to decide to embrace you.... No, you are not my fool. You are my blood. My Childer, Vagas. And you, are the closest thing I've had to pride in many centuries."

The smile on Vagas face stays. He turns to leave, walking back into the night. Before he's out of sight, he says over his shoulder "I'll find me a fool. Thank you, Sire."

[badkarma]

Sitting in his Library, the night after the Unknowns' corpse had turned to ash in his stone coffin. Vagas holds a journal in his hand. Going over some records of his own memories that he had written down. The journal written in a cypher comprised of Arabic, Latin and French, he recounts some of more important moments in his life.

The hours tick by, and he closes the book. Pondering the memory again:


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Esmeralda hidden from view, Vagas standing on a balcony looking down to a city in the night. The moon bright and full in the sky.



She says to him, from the shadows, "You should trust this seer. He too can change faces. The Cassandras lean towards the Camarilla because the tower uses them and protects them but this one, well, he leans closer to you. The rabble-rouser spends his nights with another outcast of the Pious prince, in the docks and will approach you to make a deal. You are surrounded by the Camarilla. Don't do something stupid."
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It made no sense to him still. And if this unknown Cassandra was worthy of his Sires mention, why had she not known his name? How did she know of the Camarillas inception hundreds of years past and only mentioned it once in all their meetings? Many questions remained that vexed him.

Rodrigue had been taken to the surface earlier. The ghoul himself not knowing how to arrive to or leave the haven, was always taken to and from the surface from a designated area. In silence and his head wrapped, Rodrigue had only ever seen the immediate area outside of the haven before it was carved out of the stone itself, and then only the inside once it was established.

For the following few nights, he was permitted respite. Given the resources to go enjoy himself among the brothels of the city. As a minor reward from his master for his service, and to show that Vagas held no fault in the ghoul for what had transpired with the Unknowns corpse the night before.

Vagas paced his haven, running through the details of various encounters with Esmerelda. His final meeting with her being after Constantinople fell, before he left on his quest, his hunt, his search.


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Their last meeting was below ground in Constantinople. Much like many of the times before, as she stood still, the ground below her feet shifted and surged with the rats that moved like a living carpet. They all remained inexorably quiet as they spoke. Vagas never truly enjoying the presence of the rodents, though had learned to understand speaking to them by this time.

"So, you intend to leave? Are you heading back to Venice?"

"No, Esmerelda. I go to seek something out. A rare...."

His sire lifts a hand, cutting him off.

"I already heard. I wondered if you would tell me yourself before you left, Vagas. You do understand the implications?"

"Of course." Saying as he shrugs slightly. "And while this might seem related to Provvi, that is only a minor reason. The potential benefits otherwise, are why I go on this search." He lied, with a practiced face of stillness.

Either not caring to see through the subterfuge, or not revealing she could, Esmerelda shakes her head in response.

"I've heard the whispers. It is not something I would recommend, but I also know your nature. If you seek it out, then keep the secret close." She chuckles slightly.

"And perhaps, when we meet again, you could teach me what you've learned. I approve of the fool you found, by the way. I've watched him, had some of my own pets watch him during the day. I find the irony... entertaining."

Her stone colored face breaking into a smile at that. No laughter comes, but the signature of her bemusement is apparent.

"I imagined you would. A former hunter, turned into a fool. And perhaps, in a few centuries, my childer."

Nodding, this time, she makes to leave. The moving swarm about her feet spreading out away from her tracks. Moving along as she does, like a floating rug of rats. She never said goodbye. They never said goodbye to each other when they left.

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