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On the surface, an Elysium of unsurpassed splendor. Beneath, something sinister lurks...


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Nikodemus
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"My understanding of it must be different then. I've always thought the road to Golconda was to overcome being a vampire. And, from what I understand, the Salubri kill themselves once they've reached it."

Voracia
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"Hmhmha," the stifled laughter again. "Horsey. Well put. But no, there are Garou upon the board. Look."
There. Indeed, among the shifting forms in the row of pawns are fleeting glimpses of the magnificent horrors of the Garou.

Nikodemus
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"Well, there are a couple of possibilities. Either they do not have a significant role to play in the struggle between acceptance and desire for change, hence their position as pawns.

"Or, they too wrestle with their state as Garou. I'd be kinda surprised if everybody that was born of the Garou are happy with their status."

Nikodemus pauses for a moment, considering.

"Personally, I'd take the first explanation over the second. But what do I know? I never claimed to be too smart."

Vash
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*Vash stands silently watching... not sure what to do. After much contemplation he does the only thing that comes naturally to him and turns to Voracia and smiles*

So... did you get my note, Miss Queen?

Voracia
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A hand on hip, the other tapping her chin gently.
Ohhh, that was from you? Pity...the gentleman downstairs must be suffering acutely from confusion and imposed bravado...

A quick, wry grin.

I have a question...

She regards the board a moment, squatting nimbly to attain a 'board's eye' view...

...how would significance alter if only one were playing the game?

Nikodemus
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"That kinda goes back to my idea of 'non-competitive' play. Which would partially account for the lack of kings on the board.

"Since Kings are vital pieces in competitive play, their absence does hint at the possibility of non-competitive.

"The thing that first made me think of it was the old puzzle of putting 8 queens on the board so that none of the queens can take any of the others.

"That's the only one I know of...there could be more."

Voracia
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Well, if that were the case, then ascribing specific individuals to some 'symbolic' color would serve your previous suggestion.

But in the case of the 'Ravnos' board described by young Marks, no offense intended, were there not only two white pieces remaining accompanying a felled king?

Why would the king materialize in defeat?

Apparently, there is a point where the king is introduced...

Nikodemus
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"Well, it could be that the kings were in the defeated position because the pieces were never going to be able to reach the expected solution to the puzzle/situation.

"Going back to the potential coloring being representative of the outlooks of the specific pieces...Let's say the pieces in the Ravnos board were unable to reconcile their differences....and killed each other. Now if each piece is necessary to reach a desired scenario, that would make it impossible to resolve.

"For example with the 8 Queens scenario, let's say you only get one chance to place a queen right. Add a time limit in there and you could panic and misplace a piece. Since you don't get to remove it, game over.

"Kinda like real life."

Stormcaller
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Looks at Niko

Okay lets say for a moment that you are right and this isn't a normal chess game but one in which there is a specific objective. First, how do we know what that objective is and, second, what happens when we attain that objective? Does the king appear? If so what then. Do we then try to eliminate him or is there some other purpose to be reached.

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I have forgoten my past, now if only it would forget me.-David

Vash
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*Vash crosses his arms and nods vigioursly*

Yes, the gentleman downstairs is rather foolish... but that can't be helped.

*Vash turns his attention back to the board and begins to drum his fingers on his arm while he examines the board*

Anybody up for a game of checkers?

Nikodemus
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"Of course, there is a further possibility.

"The card said Ravnos, didn't it?

"That could imply that each board is controlled or manipulated by an Antediluvian. And that the desired position is one that would lend aid in the Jyhad. Which would also help explain why the game was over. The correct solution could never be achieved.

"Now, I'm not so arrogant as to assume our few pieces are the sole resources an antediluvian could bring to bear...but each board of an antediluvian could be working with other boards, other pieces, to help orchestrate a 'master plan.'

"Come to think of it, isn't that how the Jyhad is supposedly played anyway?"

Nikodemus
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quote:
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Originally posted by Stormcaller:

Looks at Niko

First, how do we know what that objective is and, second, what happens when we attain that objective? Does the king appear? If so what then. Do we then try to eliminate him or is there some other purpose to be reached.
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"Ha! If I could answer those questions, I'd be one of the players, not one of the pieces.

"However, I do think it's an idea worth pursuing, if for no other reason than to get the old synapses firin' and the brain-juices flowin'.

"Of course, we could be wasting our time...I could be waaay off base here."

Stormcaller
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We could all be way off base here for that matter. How do we know for sure that these chess boards are even anything more than a diversion put here to stop us from finding the real purpose of this place. But for the moment lets go on the assumption that these boards really do serve some purpose. I wonder what would happen if some of us decided to play a game with this board. Would any of the people represented by the pieces notice. If I didn't think that something bad might happen if a person was taken off the board I would suggest a game just to see what happens but who knows what we may unleash if we mess up here and the timer of the game usually doesn't start until after the first move is made.
Thinks to himself for a moment

One also has to wonder if what has happened to us in the other rooms has any bearing on these boards or if it was some other game that the Hall's keeper is playing with us.

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I have forgoten my past, now if only it would forget me.-David

Voracia
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"...the rooks...castles...strongholds...
...Elysium."

Without hesitation she removes the queen's rook to examine it.

"How many tribes, clans, remain...?"

Krouser
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"They could be,"

*picks up his peice, a black bishop aparently, from a discarded set across the room.*

"Almost anything. They could be the mud huts on the bank of the Wala Wala for all I care. Nothing on this board has anything to do with me, or my line. The one I want dead is back in san francisco, and HIS pawns are spread about the nation."

*lifts up the unknown black bishop currently on the board, and thinks for a moment. He then sets his peice in its place.*

"Someone's gone through a lot of trouble to throw me in amongst you anglos, and I doubt if he'd be very apriciative if I just up and turned down the invitation."

*looks to voracia*

"demented or not, you still owe me a sandpainting, Ma-e."

*sets the removed peice on a back shelf and leans against the wall, to let his fellows finish gathering the pinons.*

Gwynhala
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*earlier. in the great hall. a small group of kindred are gathered around an intricately carved end table. one speaks, while the others listen intently*

"...Broken, sundered, stripped of identity—without a face, without a voice, without its very birthright. Unremarkable. Unrecognized."

"Alone.”

*as the story ends, the teller VORACIA can just be seen as she exits the hall, lingering only a moment to regard the listeners through shades of dark blue tint—and she’s gone.*

*she fades into the recesses of the room. GWYNHALA, the listener, contemplates juxtaposition laced with irony: the lady is in motion, everywhere at once, admired by all; he is at rest, surrounded by his kind, but unable to reach out to them; both are, nonetheless, alone. another story is told, and another.*

*and then a lapse. his thoughts return to the lady of the hall. did she beckon to him in her departing gaze? 'a more emotional creature would know,' he thinks, 'at one time, i would have known.'*

*resolving to follow, he takes his leave of the coterie, rises, and...*

*...finds himself in a hallway of uncertain dimensions, flanked on either side by closed doors. gwynhala tries several of the doors in hopes of finding the lady, but alas, all are locked.*

*after trying several doors, he perceives that each door is marked with a unique symbol. some are simple clan symbols, while others are of more arcane origin. one symbol, in particular, attracts his attention.*

*the symbol is a stylized inverted pentagram, not unlike the mark of the brujah clan. it differs only in being subdivided by a single vertical stroke extending beyond the bounds of the circle. yet augmented by this this single stroke, the familiar symbol takes on the character of a man hanging broken on a crucifix, surounded by a divine halo. the symbol appeals to something primal within him, a compelling rendition of his duality. before his higher consciousness can protest, he moves to the door, turns the knob, and enters.*

Elijah Robert Marks
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"If we were to assume that the colors represented how we felt about being a vampire," Elijah breaks in, jumping back to an earlier topic, "we would have to assume that Vash, and the Lady, were not comfortable with their state. Is that true?"

He looks at Vash and Voracia uncertainly.

"It doesn't seem to be. That doesn't mean it isn't.

"Ok, I'm just not skilled enough in chess to understand what the Tall Man was talking about. Let me fill you in on everything he said..."

Elijah relates the entire conversation, as best he can remember, to the group.

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I didn't hate the kindred; I just hunted them. Then they found me, and then I became them.

Gwynhala
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"HERETIC!"

*the words, in latin tongue, seared into Ulfilas' very soul*

"ULFILAS. HERETIC, FOLLOWER OF ARIUS. CONFESS THAT CHRIST IS THE LOGOS"

*the cappadocian monks repeated their accusation before the archbishop.*

"Ulfilas, you are called before us and God from your mission in Goth to defend your faith and the teaching that you spread among the barbarian races. What say you?"

*the archbishop stared menacingly at ulfilas*

"I believe that there is only one God the Father, alone unbegotten and indivisible. And I believe the Son to be subject and obedient in all things to God the Father."

*a murmer ran through the crowd, as the archbishop pronounced the ruling of the Council of Constantinople*

"Ulfilas, you are in ERROR. It is manifest in both the Pentatouch and the Gospels that God is homoousias in three persons - Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and that these three are one."

"It is the ruling of this Council, guided in all things by God's wisdom, that you be exiled from this day to the lands beyond Sardinia to meditate upon your heresy and repent for as long as you shall live."

*gwynhala's mind jerks abruptly from the late 4th century to the present. the visage of the archbishop stands before him*

"Why do you haunt me, Meletius? You are long dead."

"Ulfilas, have you repented of your heresy?"

"You are the heretic, Meletius. My path is true, and I will never leave it. How many generations will you mislead with your false teachings?"

"Insolent rabble. Mother Church gave you everything, and you turned on her. You, a slave boy - Bishop to the Goths. Your education, at our expense. Look at you now, unliving, unrepentant, unconsecrated, ungrateful, uncooperative, an instrument of Satan himself. Even now, the Holy Knights of the Vatican hunt you."

"Meletius, fool, I am become the very hand of God compared to you. His justice is meted out through me."

"BLASPHEMER! HERETIC! COWER BEFORE THE LORD AND REPENT, FOR DEATH IS UPON YOU THIS DAY, ULFILAS."

*the room fills with a blinding light, and as the rays strike gwynhala's unliving flesh, he bursts into flame. the rotshreck grips him now, and he searches desparately for the safety of darkness but there is none. 'I have failed. Father I come to you a sinner.' no sooner does the thought drift through his mind, than something deep within him stirs, his mind calms, and the flames subside. he stands alone, in a darkened room.*

*shaken, disturbed, he makes out the dim form of a doorknob and summons the will to turn it. he stumbles out into a hallway now occupied by a coterie of kindred which includes some familiar faces, among them, the lady of the hall, and crashes to the floor.*

Voracia
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She starts as the door bangs open to void its prize, standing quickly to retreat a step closer to the fire, then stepping automatically forward as the body recognizes the heat source for what it is...

"...enter the playwright,
seduced by the scene..."

Elijah Robert Marks
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Elijah rushes over to Gwynhala and checks for a pulse, realizes what he's doing, and sighs in exasperation.
"Reflex. How embarrassing. Still, he doesn't really appear conscious. Um. Not that the dead are conscious anyway... what's the proper term? He doesn't seem terribly aware of his surroundings."

Elijahs sniffs the air.

"And it smells as though he's been... scorched, somehow. Burnt hair? I don't see any marks on him, though."

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I didn't hate the kindred; I just hunted them. Then they found me, and then I became them.

Nikodemus
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"'Conscious' serves. Remember, we're special and the normal terms don't apply to us." Nikodemus sniffs at his clothing.

"It's faint, but still there...the salt air of my homeland.

"It seems there's a fair amount of reality in our illusions.

Voracia
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"He was in the Hall before I left."

To Krouser

"You saw him, Thunderheart. He was telling the story about the wolf who licked himself to death."

Stormcaller
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Glances down at the spear-like weapon he now carries then at Niko

"More than just a fair amount I would say. This thing seems pretty solid to me."

Gestures to Gwynhala

"I would wonder what happened to Gwynhala but in this place it seems that he found a room that was meant for him and he will tell us about it in his own time if at all."

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I have forgoten my past, now if only it would forget me.-David

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