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• Ken(Hideki Takashi) Dice Pool: gnosis(3) + spirit(1) + lantern(1) + order tool brass knucles(1) + high speech(2)=8 Reaches 1 for instant cast, 1 advanced duration Action: cast exorcist eye and talk to Drowned host. Health: 8/8 Mana/Vitae: 13 Willpower: 6/7 Conditions: Description Ken takes the lantern without a word. Its light stains his features amber as he glances back at Chance and Dosbox, giving them a small, deliberate tilt of his head—be ready. Then he turns toward the empty stretch of pier. To Ken, the sea is standing upright. As he walks, he slides the brass knuckles onto his fingers, the metal kissing bone with a muted click. He rolls his shoulders once and rubs the plates together slowly, deliberately. The sound is soft—but it lands heavy in the air. High Speech spills from his tongue. Not loud. Not dramatic. Precise. The world answers. The wind stretches thin and begins to harmonize. The tide fractures into layered whispers. Twilight deepens into a bruised spectrum where colors hum instead of fade. The boards beneath his boots murmur in old timber dialect, remembering storms long past. Over it all comes the sound of distant bells—no harbor bell, but something deeper, submerged. The air thickens. And the Drowned Host clarifies before him—eight feet of vertical water. Faces press outward from within its shifting surface. Eyes glow like drowned lanterns. The water reflects him, then shifts, reflecting something pale and lifeless in his place. Ken does not flinch. He stops a respectful distance away. He bows, smooth and formal, lantern lowering with him like an offering. When he speaks, his voice carries two tones—his own, and the echo beneath it. “How may we be of service, great one?” The pier is silent. But the sea inhales.

• Ken(Hideki Takashi) Dice Pool: wits(3) + Investigation(2)=5 Action: try and glean what what the wound is in japan. Health: 8/8 Mana/Vitae: 13 Willpower: 6/7 Conditions: Description Ken stood there a moment, studying Sarah with an unreadable calm. “The problem with tools,” he said at last, “is that once someone’s finished using them, they get tossed aside.” A faint, humorless smile touched his lips. “I should know.” Silence lingered between them. “What ails Chicago isn’t the same thing that ails Japan,” he went on. “But maybe we can compare notes.” He drifted toward Himu, extending his cup without a word. Sake streamed into it, clear and steady. Ken nodded his thanks, returned to his seat, and leaned back, cradling the warmth in his hands. “I have some thoughts on what’s wrong with Chicago,” he said, eyes fixed on the pale surface of the drink. Then he looked up. “But tell me—what’s ails Japan?”

Edgar Williams Dice Pool: Wits - 3, Investigation - 2 Action: Ask Armin questions about the mission at the lake and the scope of what proof is sufficient for the Vatican. Health: 8 Vitae: 12 Willpower: 6 Conditions: None Description: Edgar reaches out and takes the phone from Armin. A few moments pass in silence as they look at each other. It finally dawns on Edgar that Armin is allowing him a chance to ask questions. He's been so focused on taking everything in and not missing a detail that he almost missed his opportunity to find out answers himself! That and generally Armin didn't tolerate many questions. First things first, the mission at hand, "Regarding the lake, is this just a fact-finding mission, or should I try to get involved in preventing the situation from worsening, if that is even possible?"

Armin Saberlin, Saberlin being his current name, was an older vampire of the Lancea et Sanctum, the dark church of kindred [vampires], and a sworn member of one of their more prestigious dark knighthoods. This one, a direct descendent of the knights hospitolier, better known as the Knights Templar of Crusade fame, calls itself the Order of the Temple of Solomon and has successfully made one of its order an Archimandrite, a member of the council that 'runs' the Lancea et Sanctum, as much as any group could control a covenant of vampires. They send agents to make new bases of control, help those that join their order gain power and influence, and utilize the Vatican to provide pressure and local power for their agents. Most of the leading elders have their own sect or order; disciplined kindred first loyal by the blood bond, zealous faith, and fear, they have grown to be powerful establishments on their own to act as their masters hand in the world. The Order of the Temple of Solomon consider themselves knights, and upon success in the Trials, can choose to swear their oath on the sword of their original founder, kissing the blade and pledging themself forever to the order. This places a magical curse upon the kindred sworn in, one that bites when they disobey. In return for serving the order, they have opportunity to rise in the rank, allowing them to have sworn knights under their tutelage and house. At the top of the order are the Houselords, each having a 'house' of knights like a massive pyramid scheme underneath them. All of the knights above support those below in their House, while those below must take Quests from those above, earning them training, gifts, favors, and secrets in return.

[image: upper_logo.png] Richard "Ricky Dee" Davenport - DosBox - Mad Black Hatter Dice Pool: Composure (3) + Expression (1) = 5 Action: Trying to look like he didn't just get his shit rocked by a fucking werewolf kaiju or whatever Mana Pool: 12 [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] (Spend 3/Turn) [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] [X] Health: 7 [X] [X] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] Willpower: 5 [X] [X] [X] [ ] [ ] Conditions: None Description: The Man in Black brings a thumb and forefinger to his chin, making an intrigued sound emanate from his vocal cords before he begins to read the document presented. Like REALLY READ the thing. Every so often he'll make an, "Oh?" or an, "Aha!" while glaring at the words on the charter before removing some kind of ornate stamp, wrapped in a kerchief from his pants pocket. With a strong press, he leaves a mark on the document, reading, 'The Mad Black Hatter'. The 'B' is wearing a jaunty fedora. Cute. Someone is putting way too much effort into this bit. With a nod, the Hatter emotes cheerfully, "That should be as legally binding, or more so, than a signature, I suspect?" The Hatter doesn't make any comment on the vampire because vampire knowledge isn't in his wheelhouse.

• Ken(Hideki Takashi) Dice Pool: wits(3) + socialize(-1)=2 Control insticts(duration) withstand resolve: life(3) + gnosis(3) + path tool(brass knuckles 1) + environment(1)=8 Reaches: affect supernatural creatures, instant and advanced duration Action: try to get Nova to open up by being vulnerable and asking if she needs help. Also cast control instincts to have her see me as a possible mate and lower her gaurd. Health: 8/8 Mana/Vitae: 13 Willpower: 6/7 Conditions: Description Ken rubs the back of his head and says "would you be willing to help me fight spirits better? I felt a little inadequate in the fight. After a minute he starts again. Do you have plans? Are you planning to work as just a party of 2 or are you looking for more allies? Ken looks into her eyes "What are you looking for?" Ken rubs the back of his head, eyes drifting toward the street before settling somewhere just past her shoulder. “Would you be willing to help me fight spirits better? I felt a little… inadequate in that fight.” He lets out a slow breath, the admission hanging awkwardly between them. After a minute, Nova’s hand comes up and touches his arm softly, like she’s confirming he’s solid and not something that might disappear. “I still can’t believe you’re here.” She stares at him intensely, her eyes watering. The weight of her gaze makes him shift his footing. This—this kind of intensity—felt overwhelming. “I’ve seen you… I… you were…” Her voice falters, catching in her throat. Ken feels the moment tipping into something he doesn’t know how to hold. In that moment 1 hand slides into his pocket fingers gliding over his brass knuckles. He imagines Nova lokking at him. Heat in her eyes wanting to impress him so he would choose her. The spell snaps into place silently. Retrieving his hand from his pocket he leans away and scratches his cheek lightly, giving her space. “are you sure I'm that guy." steering them back to safer ground. “Do you have plans? I mean—are you planning to just work as a party of two? Or are you looking for more allies?” His gaze finally meets hers, hesitant but steady. “What are you looking for?”

LOCKED The gun shots cause a panic as people scream and begin running. The place is big, so it is hard at first to tell where the shots are coming from -- We can do this on a Tues as a scene --

: Suggested Actions : Decide what to do next Explain what happened to Ashbriar to catch her up to speed Roll checks to try and think of what could have happened, or to bring up other details from his investigation that might suddenly be relevant

Dice Pool: Composure (2) + Persuasion (1) = 3 Action: Learn what she can from this new "relative". Health: 7 - no damage Vitae: 5 Willpower: 4 Conditions: None Description “Fiadh, right?” "In public, aye," she confirms with the briefest of nods. ”It’s been… a strange few months.” "Heh, if that isn't an understatement. I was mortal less than a year ago. “Mind if I sit?” "I keep hearin' how this is a free country or somesuch," she says, waving a hand casually at the seat next to her. “Whatever it is, it’s spreading through the lines. Thought maybe you’d seen something similar.“ "Oh, saw some funny shite in a museum basement a few weeks back..." She explains the shadow monster, the Ordo box, and whatever tidbits her new mage associates shared with her while there. "So, what news from Sire-Dearest?"

Just letting you know I am not forgetting about it, but I need to get some folks spun up on it, which probably requires a downtime action.

Perception Across the Worlds To Mages (Mage: the Awakening 2e): The things at the center, seen through Mage Sight, it is an anti-symbol, a void where Supernal resonance collapses. Death mages feel its pull like a black hole dragging their souls forward; Matter mages see the world’s lattice corroding around it. To gaze too long upon it risks Wisdom degeneration—the mind rebels against the idea that this could exist.

Buck's Diner - The neon sign over the door just says BUCK’S—no apostrophe, one tube burned out so it flickers like it’s thinking about quitting. It’s the kind of place you only find if you need it, or if you’ve been coming there for twenty years. The diner straddles the edge of downtown and the Near West Side, close enough to the Loop to catch cops, hospital night staff, and insomniacs, but far enough out that no one’s trying to impress anyone. Buses hiss past the fogged windows, the L rattles somewhere overhead, and at night the place feels insulated from the city—like the noise hits the glass and just… stops. Dante wants to make Buck's neutral ground, a blind spot in Chicago’s supernatural geography, where secrets stay put as long as you finish your coffee and don’t make trouble. NPC: Buck - Large, broad-shouldered man with a permanent pot belly, balding, greasy dark hair clinging to the sides and back, five o’clock shadow that never quite goes away, dirty white T-shirt under a stained cook’s apron, smells faintly of bacon grease, burnt coffee, and cigarettes, and a thick Chicago working-class accent. Mean by default, not cruel — sharp tongue, zero patience, treats customers like they’re inconveniencing him personally, hates outsiders: suits, college kids, tourists, anyone who looks like they won’t finish their food, once you’re “his,” though, he’s fiercely loyal. Will lie to cops, cover for regulars, and remember favors forever. Runs the grill himself on night shift, knows every regular’s order without asking, keeps the coffee bad on purpose — “keeps people honest”, and has an uncanny safe for when trouble is about to walk through the door.

Chance Meridian Dice Pool: 6 w/ 9a - Wits+Investigation (Asset Skill) Action: Figure out the right question to ask. Chance doesn’t knock. He steps through the threshold like someone entering a room that might decide, halfway through, that it doesn’t want him there. The Cottage always does that little lurch — the sense that the angles are arguing with each other — and this time it feels tighter, wound like a held breath. The smell hits him first: ozone, dust, overheated circuitry. Then the sound. Fans. Too many fans. A low mechanical growl that feels… attentive. His eyes settle on DosBox hunched over the laptop, swallowed by glow and cables, looking like a man trying to out-type a funeral. Chance drifts closer, hands in his coat pockets, gaze flicking between the monitors. Fractured logs. Names that itch at the back of his skull. Night Watch’s fingerprints are everywhere — not just in the data, but in the way it’s being handled. This isn’t casual archiving. This is triage. This is someone racing a lockout they’re not sure is digital. He watches the new folder appear. DO NOT OPEN UNTIL THEY ASK. Chance exhales slowly through his nose. His mind starts doing what it always does — spinning threads. Did Night Watch build this as a dead man’s switch? Is the box just storage, or is something in it, riding the data like a stowaway? A spirit? A failsafe intelligence? Or worse — a watcher meant to see who dares ask the wrong question? And then there’s the other angle. The one he doesn’t like. Night Watch didn’t just get killed. Someone cleaned house. That means someone else knew. Someone with reach. Someone who benefits from silence. Chance looks at DosBox, then at the server humming in the corner like a restrained animal. Finally, he speaks — voice calm, deliberate, the way you talk when you’re trying not to spook a gun. “Alright,” he says. “Before we open anything… I want to know who else had eyes on this. Not theories. Not maybes.” He meets DosBox’s reflection in the darkened screen. My question is...“Who knew what Night Watch was digging into — and who took steps to make sure he stopped digging?”

Vanda stares at him. Maybe she just forgot to blink. She has returned after Sarah's time. Opening the bars, she steps into the cell with other kindred, putting down the cooler. "You look far worse tonight. Clearly not Morrow's work. The Prince's pet must have enjoyed itself." She says it sorrowfully and she opens the cooler and hands him the first bag of blood. "Your legs. You can't walk on those until they are reset. This isn't enough blood to do that." She shushes him and looks at the door conspiratorially. "I can get you out of here. Tonight. But you'll need to give me everything. Confession, truth, everything. You tell me the truth, and I'll get you back to your friends." She whispered it to him. Vanda pulls a chair over to him and sits down, crossing her legs and resting her hands lighting on her knees. She clicks on an audio recording, one of the older ones that still uses a cassette tape. "Whenever you are ready."

I will try and congregate all of the information the team has gotten from the server pulled out of Night Watch's base: Whispers of Azoth. It will take some time to parse it, but it looks like some kind of cult that the Guardians were trying to infiltrate, and failing. The Magistrate's name is mentioned multiple times. There are maps of Abyssal Verges throughout the city, and they have a clear pattern. It looks like a path, like that from a tornado, that goes through the city and its heart. It is dated to the Blackout, and compared to some maps from before where none of the Verges existed. Night Watch has some musings on the Verges, that they are tied to the storm and that it has something to do with Reality itself being stretched and broken, not by a singular actor, but by the supernatural actions in the city at large over the previous 2 decades. He is looking at some kind of key that would unlock the dimensional rifts. This references another file. Dimensional Rifts: Night Watch has a file from Fayne that discusses Dimensional Tears and Rifts. It looks like is based on previous research of Fayne's referencing his mentor and a temporal rift from years past, but that this is much larger and widespread. It looks to be the results of a clashing of energies that, like enormous hot and cold fronts, created a massive mystical event that rent the dimensional barriers and seemed to be drawn especially to those with strong magical resonance. The supernatural denizens of the city. Fayne supposes that they have been sucked into a kind of dimensional vortex that has left them in the fabrics between magical spaces, like a journey with a portal but becoming locked in the portal path itself before arriving at the destination. He thinks that they may all be in different locked zones based on their resonance and may be retrievable. However, the method of retrieving, well, even the method of confirming these theories is yet lost to him. He asks Night Watch to review the research and provide some feedback on methods that might be used to determine the truth of the theories. Notes from the Free Council and Adamantine Arrow point to a Spirit war currently going on in the city. When the supernaturals all vanished, the local spirit lords immediately struck out to claim territory, resources, hallows, verges, and loci. They utilized urged and ridden to isolate areas, and began striking each other with packs of hybrid mutant spirit monsters as well as claimed, possessed, people to disrupt each other's efforts to secure areas and to destroy one another's agents. It looks chaotic and messy. The Adamantine Arrow has dedicated themselves to pressuring the Spirit Lords to confine their territory and reduce their use of human agents, as the injuries and deaths, the mental trauma, of these actions has caused major problems for the mortal city itself. He has notes of werewolf sightings, but they look to be scouts, and are careful about being seen or disrupting the spirits. He has a letter he sent to New York stating that there are records of some werewolves keeping the spirits in check, and that they may have been what kept the spirit lords from doing just this before the Blackout. However, there are also some werewolves that willingly serve the spirit lords, or work with them, and if they come in and make deals it would be difficult to push them back. That would mean giving up a great deal of resources and reducing the mage influence in the city, as well as greatly restricting travel to different areas. He asks for some assistance in ascertaining the nature of the werewolves and some muscle to push them out before they can move in and make a foothold. The Lakeborn Wraiths rising from the water and haunting the Navy Pier. He requests a clean up crew. More importantly, he wants a dive team to go into the lake and see if there is something pushing ghosts out of the lake and onto land.

Sable gets +2 beats Sarah gets +1 beat