I had spent every waking moment when I first moved in completing my Sepulcher, before moving on to other things. You had to trudge down seven city blocks of the sewer to get to it from the Caldarium, or just two blocks from the main sewer entrance, but it was a straight line so it wasn't that long either way. That of course would change soon enough, I had already had a say in that. However tonight it made for an easy pathway for those who decided they wanted to learn how to wield a knife properly in defense of our Necropolis...and the Domain, of course.
I had left a note with the time and date where my clan mates could find it easily in our little underground club house. It was straightforward offering lessons in weaponry, and if any wanted to learn advanced techniques with knives there would be room to do so at the end of the lessons for those with the right skills.
Alice Hart Robert Cross Garrick Marlon @%1; Kenneth Gilroy
Anyone could sign up of course, but he knew two had expressed a distinct interest at the clan meet. I wondered how many would show up.
Perhaps, no one would. That'd be a laugh.
Regardless, if someone did show they would be greeted by dry floors, a clear space and many different weapons and tools stored on the wall, crudely held in place by rebar shaped to hold up the items. At the top, there was a large sledge hammer. Then, a few clawed types. Several large chisels, a cement saw, and a range of pliers and screwdrivers and a single nail gun. Of more deadly use was three Khukri hung to frame the rest of the items. This all made the wall look more like an arsenal in it's infancy. Beneath these items there was a single table that was rickety and wobbled something fierce. On it rested five Combat Knives. All sharp. All deadly. I had ghetto-rigged a light above to a car battery. It was one of three I had laying around at a glance. Over in the corner there was a wooden chair made very strong with thick beams and metal. It was clearly reinforced more than anything else in the room and had very little in the way of comfort in it's design. It faced the wall of arms with what looked like leather straps of some kind on it's arms, legs and back. Next to this medieval beast was the jumper cables for a car battery and what looked to be a container, the old school gas can made of metal with the big red x that you'd fill with diesel gasoline for your truck back in the day. The dim light above cast shadows all throughout the room due to the central pillars, likely holding up a building above. All in all, the effects were singular in their design, and the implications of it's intent were horrific.
Out of the ordinary, I may have raided a butcher shop. There were several pig carcasses dangling from the ceiling. It was a grim sight to be sure, they had already begun prep for butchery. Their eyes, tongue and teeth all ripped out left the impression of a horrid endless scream on their fat little faces, and I intended us to make them far worse by the nights end.
The clock I may have also taken from the butcher shop struck the hour and it was I, Jack who waited inside my den of sadism deep beneath the earth growing more curious to see who all would show. I scanned the room making sure everything was in it's place. There was enough space made, the floor swept. Work had been put in to accommodate the training space necessary for what I hoped would be an ongoing event. Training of the individual haunts of the Necropolis was in my mind a goal worthy of undertaking and so it would get done.