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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Catulle" data-source="post: 961966" data-attributes="member: 9942">The WarrensWednesday 11th December, 2003Dim light shed from a single weak bulb flickered in and out over the table. Sturdy wood, piled high with sheafs of papers, strewn across with books and a multitude of little plastic discs, was barely visible in the gloom. Shadows crept in at every seam, blanketing the room in an oppressive shroud. The electric buzz was the only sound to be heard.There were figures there, too, clinging to the darkness as a drowning man to the flotsam of his broken vessel. They moved in silence, the steady shuffle of building anticipation and the faint illumination casting only a suggestion as to the identities of the myriad of hidden shapes. Perhaps it was better this way.A sharp click broke the silence and signalled the closing of a door, and a hunched, massive figure shambled to the table, one pallid hand thrusting into the light, thick-nailed fingers wrapped about a paperclipped folder. It dropped the dossier onto the table, before retreating from the light, as if in recoil."I'll say this for 'im." The voice, from deep in one of the room's corners, was nasal and yet deep at the same time, "'e could certianly keep the books, whatever 'is faults." A pause, and the sound of something being dragged across the concrete floor. A chair became visible, and a figure dropped into it. The batlike ears and bald scalp were the only discernable details of the occupant's head, who gestured with a gnarled hand in the direction from which the courier had approached, then retreated. "What is it, Krid?""Another." Gutteral, harsh accented speech rolled from the darkness. "Staten Island, this time. We've backtracked as far as Charleston, so maybe it came up with the Sabbat.""Source(source)?" A third voice, muffled and echoing itself in a parody of resonance joined in the exchange."Ha. A little bird told me." The second speaker responded. "Area's crawling with other investigators, now. I think the sheriff could be there. My information was vague on that point.""I can confirm that." A dry rasp and a fourth speaker cut in. "Both the Sheriff and the Scourge left Manhattan earlier tonight. The scourge collected his from Carnegie Hill." The shadows rippled with motion, as that of a predator under muddied water."Company?" The first, again. "who is 'elping them?""That could be the Brujah childe (childe). Thepclay's whelp (whelp). We know what he did (did)... Perhaps he will tell us what he found there (there).""Then we shall ask 'im for 'is 'elp in exchange for our silence..." The speaker leaned back in his chair, folding gaunt arms wrapped in heavy, filthy coatsleeves across his chest. His crusted pate vanished backwards into the gloom.</blockquote>

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