"Our vitae has been shed for nothing. Our elders in the Sabbat have used us, and to what end? To fulfill their own dreams of power, to plot against their so-called sect brothers, and to maintain the same cruel systems of bondage that they claim to despise. We were told that we were heroes, that we fought against the machinations of the Antediluvians, that we sacrificed for the greater good of all our kind. And when we went to war in Boston, we found none of this. We fought and plotted and were sent to the Final Death not for a glorious cause, but for simple greed. We have had enough." Cristos Mantigo looked around the room steadily, searching the faces of the other vampires here with him. They were largely the survivors of the recent crusade, other members of the Sabbat who'd come into the city with their packs, though there were also a few Camarilla survivors of the recent battles, as well, and even a few Gangrel come into the city to hear his speech. Their faces were alternately rapt and enraged, perfect for his purposes. "The time for obedience and acquiescence has come to an end. We must face the night with bravery, again. Not the bravery of following orders or watching our companions fall without reason, but the bravery of embracing liberty. We must overthrow those who have taken control not because they are fit to command, but because they have never faced insubordination. We must be united in our resolve to seek our own destinies." Cristos felt something stir at the base of his neck, a sensation of feathery fingertips brushing against his spine. He brushed at the sensation unconsciously, and smiled. No one in the room noticed the brief, hazy look in his eyes. "I declare myself Baron of Boston, and I shall lead you to freedom." ***** Little Tailor turned away from the window as Caliban entered the room. The expert fleshcrafter had quit Prague at Cardinal Vykos' urging, and it had been a worthwhile journey. After the crusade Vykos had recommended Tailor for an archbishopric, and the Regent had readily concurred. The office was turning out to be far more trouble than Tailor had anticipated, however. "Nothing," Caliban reported, eyes downcast. "We found the remains of what I can only presume was a Gargoyle, but the chamber itself held nothing but dust." Tailor's yellow eyes narrowed behind his steel-framed glasses, but his voice was light and gentle. "Ellen Fence has reported seeing Joseph O'Grady amongst the gang of anarchs who seemed to be setting up that damned newspaper office downtown. More and more Gangrel have been skulking around the borders of the city, wandering into Boston for Caine-knows-what purpose. And now you tell me that the chamber that was our reason for storming Boston, a crusade which Cardinal Vykos had personally overseen due to its importance, is empty." Caliban, wisely, said nothing. Though he had only met the Little Butcher a few nights ago, the thing's temper was legendary. Tailor turned back to the window, thoughtfully trailing one elongated talon down its surface. Tailor felt an odd impression, as though another person were looking at the younger vampire before him through his eyes. He felt his anger becoming pointed, purposeful. And the feeling passed. "Gather the packs," he instructed softly. "Prepare the war parties. Convince any Gangrel you can to join us, and mark the rest for destruction. Our war for the city, it would seem, has not yet come to a close." Caliban turned to follow his orders, but not before noticing that the Little Butcher.s form had already begun to swell and shift into a shape more suitable for bloodshed. ***** Xaviar watched as the last few of his clanmates loped off into the woods. The Revel had been a greater success than he'd hoped, though he'd been surprised at the large numbers of anarchs in attendance. Had this been what he'd hoped for when he'd warned his brethren to leave the Camarilla? Nadima stood at his side, watchful as ever. As the last few Gangrel disappeared through the trees, heading for the city, she looked at him strangely, head tiled to one side. "Counseling war, Xaviar? It seems odd behavior for you. Though I've never known you to flee a fight yourself, I'd have thought that the recent troubles with our former sect would have left you feeling more cautious." Xaviar rubbed at his cheeks, looking troubled. "The anarchs in the city are getting more and more out of hand, and the Sabbat is going to greater and greater lengths to assure their control after their victory. We need to be there to make sure that neither side wins." Nadima nodded slowly, her bright eyes boring into his. "Of course. But still, it seems a little out of character for you to call a Gather so abruptly, given that you've never cared about Boston before. As a matter of fact, you were merely passing through, or so you told me." Xaviar turned to her sharply, her words bringing his own doubts about his actions over the past few nights back. But she was already dispersing into a thick mist, her body only tenuously holding its shape. "I'll be watching you," she breathed, and he found himself oddly comforted by the thought. ***** The street was lit by the savage fire in the burning library as the last few anarchs scattered into back alleys, but Ignatius Wainwright could not feel the heat of the flames even though he stood only a few yards away. He folded shadows around himself, hiding himself away from any other eyes that might be observing him in the lands of the dead, as he watched the library blaze. He'd seen several of the Tzimisce hunting in the building over the last few nights, and silently congratulated himself on another small victory. The Sabbat would retaliate against the anarchs for their action, and Ignatius would be more than happy to use that reprisal as a way to add fuel to the anarchs' rebellion. Ignatius, a native of Atlanta, had fled that city when that damned upstart Giovanni ghoul had nearly discovered the Black Thorn Codex, an ancient book of necromantic rituals and Ignatius' last link to the lands of the living. He'd arranged for the book to be transported north, possessing a mortal to carry the Codex for him. He had stopped in Boston, judging it to be a safe enough place to secure the tome. Then the shadowlands had exploded in a maelstrom, and he'd been propelled deep below the city by the force of the storm.s eruption. He'd become trapped in a strange chamber far below the city, the book torn from his grasp. He had been safe there, but shortly thereafter he felt the tugging of necromancy attempting to pull him out of his prison and haven. The chamber itself had protected him, though he still didn't fully understand why. He knew well enough why the Giovanni were trying to summon him, though, and had grown desperate to escape. Pure chance, perhaps, that the creature Ignatius recognized as a Gargoyle had cracked open the walls of his cage. Perhaps it was more than chance, but he had no desire to ignore what might be his only opportunity to regain the Codex. Ignatius had been a Tremere himself, a long time ago, and knew well enough what the rocky creature before him was capable of. Easy enough to slip into its skin and turn it against its master in white robes, who responded by destroying the monster and fleeing. He had quickly discovered that the Giovanni had been driven out of the city shortly before he had escaped, and had quickly taken stock of the situation in the city. The Sabbat were in control of the city, barely, and he knew he had to take advantage of their tenuous foothold before they discovered why the Giovanni had been digging beneath the city. It was easy enough to take control of a few disgruntled ancillae and neonates and convince others that it was their own idea to rebel against their masters. A number of Gangrel had gathered outside the city, and it was similarly simple to lead them into Boston on the pretense that they should act on the chaos there to further their own ends. Ignatius had every intent of keeping the three factions at each others' throats, until every last one of them had destroyed each other, if need be. "The enemy of mine enemy," Ignatius whispered, "knows not what he fights, nor whose banner he carries." He set out in the direction of the war parties' cries, smiling grimly. *********** Thus begins the next chapter in the Boston Build-Your-Own-Storyline story arc (previous chapters of the story will be available on our website at some point). Here are the tournament details: Ignatius Wainwright: Boston Sunday, June 26th Starts at NOON. Booster Draft* 3 rounds + Final Entry Fee: $2 + cost of boosters. Instead of the $2, you may instead donate any number of boosters to prize support/cost-reduction for other players. Ignatius Wainwright is pitting the Sabbat and Anarchs against each other in Boston, hoping to wipe them both out in the process. 4 Sabbat War boosters, and 4 Anarchs boosters will be drafted. Minimum crypt size is 7, minimum library size is 40. If your library is exhausted, you may take a Discard Phase action to reshuffle your library and crypt ash heaps back into their respective piles. Ignatius Wainwright will begin play in the center of the table (hopefully with a nicely printed version). Here is his text: Ignatius Wainwright Ally Cost: 3 pool Unique Wraith with 2 life, 2 strength, 0 bleed. Ignatius has +1 stealth on all actions and is immune to non-aggravated damage. He can not block vampires. You may tap Ignatius and burn the Edge to play a card from your ash heap as if it were in your hand; remove that card from the game when it is burned. SPECIAL EVENT RULES: * Whenever any Methuselah gains the Edge, that Methuselah gains control of Ignatius Wainwright. * Whenever Ignatius leaves play, return him to the center of the table instead. * The cardless action to Go Anarch is free. * There is an additional free cardless action: As a +1 stealth action, any non-Sabbat, non-Anarch, non-titled vampire may gain a Sabbat counter (if the vampire changes sects, burn the counter). * Ignatius's controller may tap him and burn the Edge to put an Anarch counter or Sabbat counter onto a vampire he controls. You can't place Anarch counters on Anarch vampires, or Sabbat counters on Sabbat vampires. But, contrary to the previously-stated rules, you *can* do this to a titled vampire, and you can also turn an Anarch into Sabbat. (If you use this ability on a titled vampire, it follows the normal rules of changing sect). There are no official "teams" in this event, but feel free to represent your side. Make notes of any interesting occurrences, especially when Anarchs and Sabbat clash, or when any of the characters mentioned in the stories make an appearance. Hope to see you all there! Josh "Jozxyqk" Feuerstein Prince of Boston Happy that my internet at home is working again.. (Sorry for monocleofclarity.com downtime; there will be a little bit more but it should stabilize in July)