[u:9531d2339a]2:41 am, Winthrop, WA[/u:9531d2339a]

The nightly silence was only broken by the combination of buzzing and humming of the neon-sign that lit the entrance of the 7-Eleven convenience store and the store clerk flipping through the pages of the latest issue of Camping Life Magazine.

However, the latest tips in camping gear did not seem to interest the clerk as much as the late night customer that had come in only a few minutes earlier. Used to the usual crowd that visited the nearby North Cascades National Park, this fellow looked nothing like that. Instinctively, the thick-bearded clerk’s finger reached for the alarm button under the counter. He didn’t move his eyes of the man for a second as the fellow had just pulled a quart gallon of skim milk from the refrigerator and was now trying out various models of the cheap sunglasses that the store had for sale.

Finally satisfied, the rugged customer approached the clerk and placed the milk and a pair of plastic shades with reflective lenses on the counter.

[i:9531d2339a]“Will that be all?”[/i:9531d2339a] the store attendant asked, a bit surprised to see that his customer was also wearing a pair of shades.

The customer nodded.

[i:9531d2339a]“Aviators, uh? No wonder, you are looking for something new, those haven’t been in style since the eighties.”[/i:9531d2339a] the clerk, seemingly a bit more relaxed, remarked, [i:9531d2339a]“That’ll be six dollar seventy-nine.”[/i:9531d2339a]

Mundug looked at the crumpled $5 bill, the 4 quarters, 2 dimes, 1 nickel and 3 pennies that made up his entire financial portfolio. [i:9531d2339a]“How can it be $6.79? The price on the milk said $1.25 and the sunglasses $4.99, the lady in the swimsuit on the picture even says they are only $4.99.”[/i:9531d2339a]

The clerk raised an eyebrow. [i:9531d2339a]”Plus tax.”[/i:9531d2339a]

[i:9531d2339a]“Well why doesn’t it say how much tax there is on the stuff, I don’t have money for tax.”[/i:9531d2339a] Mundug raised his voice and replied.

[i:9531d2339a]“It says how much on the receipt, Maverick.”[/i:9531d2339a] The store clerk replied firmly. [i:9531d2339a]“Total is $6.79”[/i:9531d2339a]

[i:9531d2339a]“I’ll just take the milk.”[/i:9531d2339a] The Native American defeated by the clerk’s rock-solid argument answered, giving the clerk the money.

[i:9531d2339a]“Looks like you are gonna have to wait for your fashion makeover.”[/i:9531d2339a] The clerk grinned. [i:9531d2339a]“Have a good night.”[/i:9531d2339a]

Mundug had already left.

[i:9531d2339a]“Indians…first we give them reservations, then they can open casinos and now they don’t wanna pay tax no more.”[/i:9531d2339a] The clerk shook his head and flipped the page to check out the new selection of sleeping bags.

[u:e015e97312]4:26 am, North Cascades National Park, WA[/u:e015e97312]

Mundug wiped the white moustache around his lips on the sleeve of his coat and poured the remainder of the milk in a small handmade clay bowl that he left on the rock floor of the small cavern he had made his shelter at. He had roughly one hour left before dawn, time he could spend patching up the hole in his coat. Stitch by stitch he sowed the hole in the moose fur, still not sure how it had come to pass that he had been the target of a white human hunter…wearing a screaming orange jacket and hat. Obviously he had been mistaken for a deer or…a moose, but that still didn’t explain why he had so easily been surprised. He was supposed to be the top of the food chain, the predator. The human hunters were the game. First being shot in the back by a white man and in the same night being mocked at by a convenience store clerk. So much for Chinook pride. Even Jerry, who was usually playful, was quietly licking up his milk, avoiding Mundug’s gaze.

[i:e015e97312]“There, it’s all fixed…not perfect, but not bad at all for a coat made in 1917. What do you think Jerry?”[/i:e015e97312],Mundug with all the pride left in him, showed the patched up coat to his cat.

Jerry continued licking his milk in silence.

[u:b6a25e65d1]9:26 pm, Touraine, France[/u:b6a25e65d1]

Julius paced. Aimlessly. From one side of the bedroom to the other and back again. From the door, to the bed. Around the bed. Past Eve's dressing table. Back along the wall. From one side, to the other and so on.

Eveshka, raised one eye above the book she was trying to read and watched the movement. One hand slowly, casually reached for the bedside lamp and hurled it nonchalantly at Julius' head. Irritatingly, but expectedly, he caught it mid-pace.

[i:b6a25e65d1]"Stop that, dear, you'll wear a hole in the carpet. If you're bored, go and find something to do."[/i:b6a25e65d1]

[i:b6a25e65d1]"Such as?"[/i:b6a25e65d1] Replied Julius. [i:b6a25e65d1]"The school is running like clockwork. Your domain is like candyfloss it's so sugary syrupy sweet and nice. The fledglings aren't even backstabbing each other. I know we said we wanted peace and quiet, but this is all just a bit much, love."[/i:b6a25e65d1]

[i:b6a25e65d1]"It's a nice change. Why don't you go and invent a spell for being less bored. An anti-boredom shell of some kind."[/i:b6a25e65d1]

[i:b6a25e65d1]"If I have to so much as look at another book, I'll scream."[/i:b6a25e65d1] Pronounced Julius. [i:b6a25e65d1]"What are you reading anyway?"[/i:b6a25e65d1]

[i:b6a25e65d1]"Marquis de Sade... Why don't you unpack Goratrix. I'm sure he can come up with some kind of evil wickedness to entertain you... Or..."[/i:b6a25e65d1] Eveshka tapped the page she was reading. [i:b6a25e65d1]"I'm not sure I've ever tried this... In fact."[/i:b6a25e65d1] Her brow furrowed. [i:b6a25e65d1]"I'm not sure it's even poss..."[/i:b6a25e65d1] She trailed off, then continued brightly. [i:b6a25e65d1]"Julius! I know what we can do that will entertain. Look here... Julius? JULIUS?!"[/i:b6a25e65d1] Eve looked up, but the wizard had vanished. [i:b6a25e65d1]"Hmm.. no matter, it'll keep for later and I'm going on top!"[/i:b6a25e65d1] The firebird returned to her book.

[u:0ad0912ed0]8:18 pm, North Cascades National Park, WA[/u:0ad0912ed0]

Mundug selectively emptied the brown leather wallet of the unconscious hunter. Twelve dollars in cash was all there was. Most people where using plastic cards that required a personal code or special traveler’s checks, specifically to avoid losing larger amounts of cash, he knew, at least he was fed and had his payback for last night. Just like him, the hunter had never seen it coming and would be just as puzzled as he had been, when he would wake up later on.

[i:0ad0912ed0]“I beg you pardon, but I see you are fed and have money to spare, Perhaps, you would like to buy me a drink in the hunter’s lodge where we can have a friendly conversation.”[/i:0ad0912ed0]

Mundug quickly turned around. Only a few paces away from him stood a medium built man, wearing a long coat, sunglasses and a broad rimmed fedora. Instinctively the surprised Gangrel reached for his tomahawk.

[i:0ad0912ed0]“Come, come Mundug, I know you have a reputation to uphold, but when I said friendly conversation, I meant it. Besides, I wouldn’t come here to hurt an esteemed clansman such as yourself, would I?”[/i:0ad0912ed0] the stranger said, in a somewhat amused tone. [i:0ad0912ed0]“Follow me and don’t worry, the drinks are on me.”[/i:0ad0912ed0]

[i:0ad0912ed0]“Who are you and what is it you want of me?”[/i:0ad0912ed0] Mundug, somewhat more at easy, but now rather clueless, asked, while following the footsteps of the mysterious clansman.

[i:0ad0912ed0]“Well, I have many names in many cultures, but for now, it should suffice that you may call me Beckett and that I have no intend to cause you any harm, in fact in a way, I am quite an admirer of the work you have done in the past.[/i:0ad0912ed0]

[i:0ad0912ed0]“That can only mean trouble.”[/i:0ad0912ed0] Mundug concluded

[i:0ad0912ed0]“Mayhaps. Please, after you.”[/i:0ad0912ed0] Beckett replied, opening the door to the lodge.

After being seated under the many trophies that adorned the lodge and served, the two Gangrels continued their conversation.

[i:0ad0912ed0]“Whether you want it or not, is not the question, Mundug. You are part of ‘our’ world and trouble is what it thrives on and even you cannot hide forever. Fortunately you found me, before it found you, however, things have already been set in motion. I do admit that a part of it may be my doing, but part of it also is the responsibility of our dear friends in Mexico City. You know of whom I speak or at least…you know what they stand for. When the time comes, you will be called upon and a choice will need to be made. Until then, travel South my friend and perhaps we will meet again.”[/i:0ad0912ed0]

Beckett paid for the drinks, got up and left the lodge.

[quote:5edf242380="Mundug"]
Jerry continued licking his milk in silence.[/quote:5edf242380]

((Yaaaah I missed Jerry! :)

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"Ah... so my errant grandchilde finally deigns to pay me a visit."[/i:91a4e0ddb5] mocked the image of Goratrix as he made an overglorified bow in Julius' direction. [i:91a4e0ddb5]"To what do I owe the pleasure of what will surely be a short distraction from my endless solitary imprisonment."[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"Shut up."[/i:91a4e0ddb5] Said Julius simply. [i:91a4e0ddb5]"We both know you deserve everything you've got and it's only my good nature which keeps me from handing you back to our old House."[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"That and my occasional usefulness."[/i:91a4e0ddb5] Retorted Goratrix with quiet confidence.

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"Indeed."[/i:91a4e0ddb5] Nodded Julius. [i:91a4e0ddb5]"Why Mexico?"[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

Goratrix looked confused. [i:91a4e0ddb5]"Mexico?"[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"Mexico City. A very obvious and open place to harbour a rival house of magi, surely you must have known that House Tremere would bring you down in the end. Even with the Sabbat all around, you could not hope to stand against our former brethren."[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"You do."[/i:91a4e0ddb5] Answered Goratrix with a shrug.

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"I stand... apart... not against. My school of the arts may annoy, but I do not interere, nor give cause for grievance against me... and you are avoiding the question."[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"You realise of course that Mexico City is the ancient capital of the Aztec Empire, do you not?"[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

Julius nodded.

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"All those ancient peoples, the Aztecs, the Mayans, the Inca in the south. They knew things. Things the Order of Hermes never knew. Things House and Clan Tremere never knew. Things you do not know, for all your vaunted powers, grandchilde."[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"So tell me."[/i:91a4e0ddb5] Said Julius, expecting no useful reply.

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"No... I think not. We had a purpose being in that place. If you wish to learn of it, you must travel there yourself. That is where the journey begins, though not, I suspect where it ends... And you will need me with you."[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"You stay."[/i:91a4e0ddb5] Said Julius firmly.

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"Then you will never learn what there is to discover, let alone discover it."[/i:91a4e0ddb5] Answered Goratrix with a snort.

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"We would have to move you into something smaller, a hand mirror, perhaps."[/i:91a4e0ddb5] Julius smiled slightly as he proposed the compromise.

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"I could endure much for respite from endless solitary boredom, Julius."[/i:91a4e0ddb5] Replied Goratrix. [i:91a4e0ddb5]"You will need a guide, someone familiar with the wilderness, someone who can deal with shapeshifters and calm the creatures of the night. The jungles of the Amazon await."[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"A guide... hmmm..."[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"Someone you can trust."[/i:91a4e0ddb5]

[i:91a4e0ddb5]"I think I have an idea.[/i:91a4e0ddb5] Concluded Julius

[u:3829913be6]9:34pm, North Cascades National Park, WA[/u:3829913be6]

As shrouded in mystery the words of the elusive Beckett had been to him, one thing was crystal clear for Mundug: his quite days were over. He didn’t intend to waste a single moment, if someone would call upon his help, it meant that he would be in danger or more likely, he already was. Beckett had spoken about his friends in Mexico City. Mundug knew that south of the anarch territory of California there was fertile sabbat breeding ground.

Jane Sims and Nicholas Chang reluctantly followed their leader, Jeffrey Mullins through the park. They hadn’t stopped complaining a single minute since the night Jeffrey had picked them as his pack companions. On the other hand, a single minute hadn’t passed or he hadn’t regretted picking those two incompetent fools. His master wouldn’t be merciful if the mission was a failure. Jeffrey would make sure he didn’t have to bring such news to New York. The rivalry between his master and Beckett was no secret, but he had no quarrel with this illustrious Gangrel, especially when he had to trace it all the way to this forsaken place in the middle of cammie territory. Unfortunately, he could keep those thoughts to himself, where his flunkies had to make sure everyone in a 5-mile radius knew about it. Jeffrey was about to lose his patience.

[i:3829913be6]“Look boss, I found a blood bag…and it’s still alive.”[/i:3829913be6] Nicholas remarked, pointing at the unconscious hunter that lay in the moist grass.

Without waiting for Jeffrey, Jane ripped a large chunk out of the hunter’s throat and sunk her fangs in the gaping wound.

[i:3829913be6]“Stop it, you fool!”[/i:3829913be6] Jeffrey shouted, kicking her away. [i:3829913be6]”Look at the blood pressure, someone has already preyed on this lout tonight.”[/i:3829913be6]

Nicholas, pulled the submachine gun from under his jacket. He had been itching to use it ever since, Jeffrey had entrusted the TEC-9 to him. While Jane was feasting on the corpse again, he carefully examined the surroundings with his supernatural sight.

[i:3829913be6]“There!”[/i:3829913be6] he suddenly exclamated, emptying his entire magazine in one large burst of automatic fire. Some of the projectiles only just missed Jeffrey, who also had noticed the large man in the nearby woods. He kicked Jane in the face, to get her attention and drew his own gun. Jane, finally out of her feeding frenzy, flayed open her upper arms, wrought her arms in tourniquets around her elbows and started wailing with the serrated shapes she had molded from the ulna and radius of each arm.

Mundug, his coat full of holes, ran further down in the woods. They had already found him and unlike Beckett, these cainites had not come to have a chat. Fortunately, he had heard them coming from half a mile away and unknowingly they had fallen into his trap.

[i:3829913be6]“Come on!”[/i:3829913be6] Nicholas, who was the only one who could still Mundug’s figure in the dense vegetation, yelled.

Jeffrey and Jane ran after him without hesitation.

Nicholas, firing away once more at the figure of Mundug, scored several hits, when surprisingly the empty moose coat, riddled with bullet holes, dropped to the ground. Nicholas and Jeffrey went over to the coat to examine it, when a few feet before the coat. Nicholas suddenly dropped through the ground and impaled himself on several wooden pikes.

[i:3829913be6]“Bear traps!”[/i:3829913be6] Jeffrey shouted. Before his mouth had shut again, a broad head arrow whistled through the cold air and disarmed Jeffrey magnum caliber revolver. To his surprise, the revolver also fell through a patch of leaves in a similar pit..

Jeffrey was baffled for a second and gasped for air, but then saw his comrade Jane running to a man with bow and arrow, hiding in a tree. The city gangrel, determined to come to the aid of his fiendish comrade, grew large claws, but then sank through his knees as Mundug’s bow string reverberated through the forest. His eyes were fixed on the arrow shaft that pierced through his heart as he helplessly stumbled through the ground.

Jane, though hungry for revenge, but not willing to press her luck, retreated and leaving her fallen comrades behind, she left the battlefield.