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?"

At the far end of the narrow chamber stands Bishop Alaric Morrow, a Nosferatu of venerable age and terrible grace. His skin is gray and drawn tight against his skull, like paper stretched over bone; his eyes gleam with the light of faith burned out — dull, tired. The crimson of his robes is dulled by dust and candle smoke, but the silver crucifix that hangs from his neck gleams as though freshly polished.

Kneeling before him are Armin, hands on sword hilt, its cross soaking in the candlight, the Knight of the Church — a vampire forged by belief and blood, his presence rigid, disciplined, his expression calm beneath the weight of duty — and his childe, Edgar, sword before him and still young, still learning what eternity costs.

“Be at peace, both of you,” the Bishop says, his voice a rasp that fills the crypt. “You stand in the shadow of the Lord’s servants, not as men, but as instruments of His wrath.”

He raises a hand, fingers blackened and knotted from centuries of unholy service. “The Great Curse spreads again. Cities sicken. Covens turn upon one another. The kine [humans] whisper of strange hungers and walking plagues. Some say it is the work of the Circle, desecrating blood and bone in pursuit of false gods. Others whisper the Dragons of the Ordo Dracul are behind it — that they seek to unmake the curse that binds us all.”

He looks between Armin and Edgar, his voice dropping to a low growl.

“But we of the Lancea et Sanctum know better. The Curse is no accident. It is divine punishment. It is the mark of Cain — proof of God’s order upon us. Yet… something stirs beneath Chicago that even faith cannot name. If this is not part of His design, then we face heresy born from the Abyss itself.”

Bishop Morrow takes a vial of dark, semi-coagulated blood from a silver reliquary. He anoints the knight’s brow with it, then Edgar’s. The scent of vitae burns in their nostrils.

“Armin,” he intones, “you are my sword. Edgar, you are the edge he sharpens. Seek the wound beneath this city — find where the Curse bleeds through. The dead whisper from the river tunnels and the industrial graves to the south. Begin there. Bring me proof — faith’s reward or damnation’s sign.”

He steps back into the dark, his silhouette dissolving into shadow and candlelight.

“Go, knights. And remember: the Curse is holy… unless it has been stolen.”

The last candle flickers and dies, leaving the two alone in the catacombs — the silence suddenly heavier, almost alive.

The iron doors of the catacombs groan as they open, spilling the two knights into the cool breath of the church above. The heavy scent of candle smoke and consecrated dust clings to them as they step into the sanctuary, the faint light of streetlamps cutting through the stained glass. The city murmurs beyond the thick wooden doors — the living world continuing, unaware of the hunters and ghosts beneath its streets.

Armin pauses beneath the rose window, his gloved hands resting on the hilt of his sword. The knight’s expression is grave, thoughtful — his gaze flicking toward the faint outline of Chicago’s skyline, where the towers cut against the night.

“We’ll find lodgings here,” he says finally, his voice low but firm. “The Cathedral will serve us until we can settle accounts with the Vatican. Our Archimandrite will expect a report, and I won’t send one without understanding the shape of this city first — its pulse, its hungers.”

He looks to his childe.

“You’ll need to walk among the night-folk, Edgar. Learn them. The humans in their alleys and the other things that prowl between them. This city breathes differently after dark.”

Armin’s eyes narrow as he recalls the bishop’s words.

“The rumors he spoke of — the ghosts at the pier. That’s where we’ll begin. You’ll go first. Watch the lakefront, especially near the old wharf and Navy Pier. Something’s drawing the dead there. Maybe it’s the Curse, maybe it’s bait.”

He turns, the faint reflection of candlelight glinting off the steel crossguard of his sword.

“Something will come to speak with the spirits. Wizards, wolves, witches — it doesn’t matter. Whatever answers the call, watch them. Listen. Then find what they’ve discovered. Don’t let them know your purpose.”

They walk together through the nave, their footsteps echoing softly in the vaulted silence. The night air seeps through the cracks of the ancient church as Armin continues, his tone colder now, more measured.

“Our rivals — the Priory of Sion — are already moving. They claim to serve the Lancea et Sanctum as we do, but they are scholars of the Abyss, heretics wearing the cloth of saints. Their Archimandrite and ours have vied for the same honors for decades. Allies, yet enemies. Each seeks to uncover the truth of the Curse first, and with it, the Vatican’s favor.”

He stops before the great doors of the cathedral, the sound of the city faint beyond.

“We must be faster, sharper, unseen. The first to discover the truth earns not just favor — but power. The council will listen to the one who brings them the Curse, or proof that it crawls the earth again.”

He rests a hand briefly on Edgar’s shoulder — not in comfort, but in command.

“At dawn, we sleep. At dusk, we begin. Watch the pier, and watch who watches it with you.”

He brings his hand down in between them, holding a phone.

"It's prepared. Keep me updated. Use the code." Armin passes a smartphone over to Edgar. He knows prepared means it would have Armin's current phone number saved amongst many dummy numbers. If a dummy number was called by the phone, it would brick both phones. The code was the latest basic messaging code they had decided on. A cypher using an old apocryphal bible from Armin's collection that had never been printed with a machine. It would also have a pay service for basic expenses to help keep Edgar focused on the task at hand. Calling the number or texting the number for Armin would connect. If it was hung up, he would come looking for Edgar.

Edgar takes the phone, and sees that Armin is waiting for his questions.

The doors open. Cold wind sweeps in from the streets, carrying with it the scent of rain, oil, and the great lake beyond. The two knights step out into the Chicago night — hunters cloaked in shadow, bound by faith and rivalry — as the cathedral bells toll midnight behind them.

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Something moves in the shadows beyond the bishop’s chamber — not sound, but pressure, like the air itself remembering how to breathe. The candles gutter, and for an instant the flame bends toward the dark, as if drawn by hunger.

There, between the rows of ancient coffins, a shape lingers — fluid and uncertain. It clings to the walls like smoke and starlight, its edges bleeding into the stone. Two pale eyes open within it, not bright but reflective, as though lit by some inner void.

It is alive. Aware.

Those who serve in the catacombs know it as the Tenebrous Witness, a spirit of shadow and devotion twisted by centuries of whispered prayers and unconfessed sins. It feeds on reverence and fear, accepting offerings left in the corners — drops of vitae, pieces of flesh, broken rosaries — and in return it offers something strange: insight, or perhaps contamination. Those who partake feel their shadows move before they do, and dream of cathedrals built upside-down beneath the earth.

It never speaks aloud. It only listens — and remembers every word spoken in the dark.

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Suggested Actions:

Ask questions about the mission,
Ask about the order
Ask about the scope
Ask about ghosts or specific creatures

This is your chance to ask a few questions to get additional back story: