Last Chance
“Such a detestable dark, dank room. No reason to be here. No crime was committed. Then why?!”
A loud thud echoes as your fist is pulled from the wall. The eyes for your “cell” mates raise towards you briefly, then down to resume their blank stares to the ground. Two days have passed, and most have been in here longer.
“Wonder if any are on the verge of frenzy? Hmpf, some definitely look it. Scum.” Silently looking towards the few who’s eyes seem to show a monster on the brink of snapping if blood is not given soon.
-“All of you, up!” The Guardsman finally spoke.
Everyone in the cell picked themselves up, harsh mumbles from many of their lips as they shuffled out the door.
-“Rotten Tremere.”
-“Nom, Ghouls for guards, hehe.”
-“No hope, must flee”
“Staying to the back was the best, most seemed half crazed, wondered if that was the plan? Will, with the most nutty of nut balls up front, yeah, back is good.”
The corridor was thin, but two bodies could fit through barely as we walked single file, and oddly illuminated without any notable light source. Two Ghoul Guards behind me and two in the front all following a cloaked figure.
And then, as predicted, it happened. Two prisoners leap towards the guards, howling and shrieking. Also predicted was the swift and brutal outcome. The cloaked figured caught one in it’s grasp, exploding him as while held against the wall, revealing a mousey woman underneath with odd facial markings and cat like eyes. His blood rained down upon those in the front, cause the hunger in the others to scurry to lap of the thick redness. She then thrust her flattened hand through the now lifeless body’s head, slowly removing her arm back, exposing long claws on at the end of blood rich fingers. The ghouls easily subdued the second by piercing his heart. She cloaked woman removed the blood for her garb with a wave of her hand and absorbed it inti her fingertips, which had returned to normal.
-“May we proceed without further interruptions?” she called to us, as she to go down the hall. We all followed.
Everyone enter a medium sized hall, looked like mainly for entertaining small group of personal guest s rather then a handful of prisoners. We sat and waited. Soon after a man come into the room and introduced himself.
-“My name is Duncan Vitsin, Lord of the 1st Circle of Mystery of Clan Tremere, Sheriff of Baltimore City. I have no care for you nor the time. So remember, my time will only cost you, make no attempt to waste it.”
A pause crossed the room, and only silence followed until he spoke again.
“Good, that’s what I like, the ability to listen and accept when they must. Options are simple. You’re here for some reason, and you have two doors to go through. The first is back to your cell, and you will be judge at my leisure. The second option, I will release you to your respected primogen or equivalent to act in the Capital Project with all crime annulled. Make you choice, I’m taking my leave.”
The Sheriff walked out as easy as he walked in, simple as that. Guess it’s time to leave, no cell, not again.
