Blood Potency
Gilded Cage:3 successes
Feeding
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Quartermain looked down over the map of the city as he worked the ritual slowly over it. It was, painfully slowly, becoming easier to feel the connection with the city and as much as he desperately wanted to move with haste the simple fact of the matter was that haste would not do. It would take time for him to establish himself and it was only once such established that the Great Work could begin.
As he regarded the map again, it reminded him of a chessboard – one in which he was infinitely more familiar that the intricacies of the Domain’s politics. There was the urge, the all too human urge, to rush – to demand – to insist. He could move swiftly, arranging money and housing to a more suitable standards, and some traces of his humanity wanted so desperately to demand it and to move with human haste. The empty walls of the barren apartment were a constant irritant, not unlike a monk’s hair-shirt or flagellations; after all, he referred to the place as his cell in the privacy of his own thoughts.
But haste would not do. A Kindred of Quality did not do things by haste; he had the time and patience to begin building slowly and in doing so would establish the proper foundations for the Work. A chessboard, the city might be, and the pieces and players alien to him, but a chessboard it remained and the Danse of those pieces was a well known script – and this was not even the end of the opening parts of that game. Time, patience, and persistence would win out; after all, what pride without struggle?
He snapped the map shut and rose as he felt the magic of the rite work over him, the beating heart of the city calling to him. He could feel it, and the city could feel him – and he would hunt well tonight.
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