The Club Bar and Grill, Madison Square Garden
01:00, 11/30/2002
Perhaps in response to the girl's obvious terror, the hand withdrew. "Thank you Sabrina. Perhaps once you know more you'll forgive me. The first nights are always harsh." A throaty choking sound emanated from the shadows. Nathaniel and Carrick each took a step forward, bringing themselves in line with the neonates, as if to recieve judgement alongside their progeny. Carrick's expression seemed confident, Nathaniel's was far more pessimistic.
The figure in the shadows stood, surprisingly small, though the deformity to its spine was obvious at this distance, a tall, thin man, perhaps bent to three-quarters of his height. Certainty was impossible under the poor light; it was hard to even concentrate too hard on the Prince's form. The Kindred closest to him heard an intake of breath and....
Nothing. Not a word was spoken, but the figure stepped out of the shadows that had, until now, granted the mercy of shrouding the creature in the midst of Elysium from sight. A horror of pallid flesh hanging sparse from twisted bone, arthritic joints seeming to struggle to keep the abomination that was the Prince's body moving, inorexably, forwards. Into the light, that all might see.
The creature was quite bald, though the skin was peeling in flakes from his scalp, leaving a light dusting across the sloped shoulders of his dark woolen coat. Wide, deep set and bloodshot eyes stared broad-pupiled from beneath his sharp brow. His mouth was full of jagged fangs that were so poorly set as to chafe and rub his gums almost to the point of bleeding. Yet he still moved. Forward, into the light; forward, to the foot of the stage.
The room fell silent.
The creature - Calebros - cleared it's throat once more, and spoke, a dry rasp that with every ennunciation brought the audience's attention to those broken lips:-
"Welcome. As you should all know by now I’m not a man to mince words and I hate speeches. Well, I don’t really have a choice in avoiding this one, since if I did I would, so you’d better listen well. I’m not going to repeat myself.
Some months down the line, I saw (and put it about) that the city needed stability – a prince, a primogen council… permanent measures to stop a return to anarchy. I set up some rules to help that happen, and appointed as few agents as were strictly necessary to enforce these so as not to step on the toes of whoever was to take over. I hoped you good, self-interested people would do the rest. I’m sure I don’t need to put this next part plainly, but I will. Since I’m a blunt old bastard at heart;
That hasn’t happened. The rules have been stretched, distorted – I won’t say outright broken, but some of you will know just precisely what you’ve gotten away with. Not one primogen has come forward, no suitable prince. Not even a sniff. Seems I’m unexpectedly popular, right?
Well, I don’t really care for popularity, and I have a life of my own. One with pressing issues I can’t ignore anymore like you seem to have ignored my commentary. I said I was going. I told you I wasn’t sitting here forever. You didn’t listen, so I’m going to have to put this a little clearer. I’ve let all the relevant dignitaries know. They’ll be taking an interest in your next moves, I think.
To clarify – the rules stay; The sheriff stays. The scourges stay. The traditions stay. Nobody creates childer. Note that the good archon Bell will be staying about to keep an eye on things, too.
That’s it. I’m finished with this job, and I’m finished with these courts. Farewell."
