Another story this way comes. Please narrate yourselves in (and what you carry) if you wish to follow this tale. Its about dangerous inheritances - and how to profit from it.


The witching hour had come. The street was empty and the city was in a reflective mood. In the perfect stillness of the dark streets, with only the illumination of the gas lights for company, a Kindred might find the time to contemplate their thoughts without interruption or distraction. By day, this part of town would be filled with the well-to-do, who would be rushing by on foot, in carriages, and in their expensive motor cars. By night the solitary predator could claim the streets still - some things, it seemed, did not change.

Away from the gilded glamour of Pacific Avenue and the riotous Barbary Coast, the gun shot sounded loud and ominous. There was the patter of pounding feet. A scrape of boots as someone came tearing around a corner. A gasp and a sob. The woman, hair coming undone in her flight, is too busy staring at her pursuit to notice you...