2022-06-13

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INCIDENT REPORT

Elegy in Wien, Act II — Orpheus and Euridice

"Music is the most romantic of all the arts; one might even say that it alone is purely romantic. The lyre of Orpheus opened the gates of Orcus. Music unlocks for man an unfamiliar world having nothing in common with the one which surrounds him."

—E. T. A. Hoffman

Devour Thy Oppressor:

The coterie has arisen this evening knowing that it is the night of the séance where they may be able to obtain the skull of Vienna’s most pious composer, Joseph Haydn. It is acting as a focus for the séance, which is being held in the Votivkirche, an ostentatious cathedral built as a public apology for the failed assassination attempt on Emperor Franz Joseph with “donations” for its construction being collected by his brother, the Archduke Ferdinand. Margerete’s ghoul servitor, Gruber, has procured the five tickets necessary for the party to attend this most exclusive of events.

Sister Judith completes her nightly prayers to find Marcus Chatelain waiting for her in the main hall of St. Stephen’s Cathedral. He muses as to which side the patron saint of stonemasons might have been on when Clan Tremere were butchering his fellow Nosferatu to create gargoyles. He has come to tell Sister Judith that her zeal for putting down the Tremere dogs was appreciated by himself, and Baron Kazimir. An unknown player to the coterie, Baron Kazimir has invited Judith to meet with him in two nights time to discuss taking the fight to the Pyramid instead of playing the typical Camarilla cat’s paw games.

As they are speaking Judith can get a better look at the Gallic Latin on his sword, which she reads aloud to him as “Sacred is the blood of my enemy, for it feeds my hunger. Devour only the oppressor.” He is impressed that she caught the inscription of his personal credo and tells her that he decided when he was embraced as a gladiator in the Colosseum at Nimes, that he would only feed upon those who sought to oppress him. A philosophy he carried with him into the many decades of brutal fighting in the Carpathian Mountains during the Omen War.

The Roman Arena at Nimes, France.

Before heading to the rendezvous with the others, Fabienne dons the well-practiced costume of a harlot, and her driver knows exactly where she intends to go. They pull up in front of a brothel where the Madame tells Fabienne that she is pleased to see her and has a client waiting in the usual room. Fabienne enters to find a man lounging on the bed in anticipation, after confirming what he is there for, she punctures the man’s ear with a sharpened fingernail and gets her nightly fix of precious blood.

Doctor Engel has woken up hungry and heads to the patient ward that she oversees. There she finds a man with a very sickly-looking leg, the foot almost gone, it is black and pocked with syphilitic sores. With the patient sedated, she brings over her surgeon’s tools and removes the offending appendage expertly at the knee. She returns to her office to consume her prize, the sickly stench of the flesh concerns her not, and she even stashes a bit for a midnight snack later.

Procure Some Curses:

The coterie assembles At the Skull before heading to the séance, here they decided that Sister Judith and Fabienne need a bit of a change in costume before attending the soiree. The butler of the house brings down a chest full of women’s outfits, each different in style and taste, and a bit outdated. Jezmina excuses herself to the powder room and uses her mastery of the flesh to manipulate her features into a more high-born visage. When she returns, the coterie is aghast, who is this woman? Jezmina explains that this is the character of Countess Fredericka von Graf, which she often uses to move about in high society.

Fabienne, Margerete, and Jezmina decided to stop by one of the fashionable clothiers on their way to the séance and as soon as Jezmina enters, she is recognized as the Countess. The proprietor of the establishment is overjoyed to have such a regal lady in his establishment and quickly sends footmen with gowns and garments of all kinds for her and her companions to try on. Everyone manages to find an outfit they like, despite Sister Judith tugging and pulling on the sleeves and collar of her dress, much to the dismay of two attending tailors.

"Pull out your purses and procure some curses!"

As the coterie approaches the church, they see a sketchy looking man with a dirty yellow conjuror’s tent set up on the sidewalk outside amidst the throng of pedestrians and other such booths selling magic mirrors, talismans, and decks of the Cards of Marseille. The man is propositioning young couples walking by to tell their fortunes, but as the coterie approaches, he excitedly whips open his coat and offers to sell them some spells for the low, low price of one kiss a piece.

Sister Judith is the first taker, and plants an icy cold peck on Vinculus’ dirty cheek in exchange for the Spell to Discover What My Enemy is Doing Presently. On the yellowed parchment is written, in surprisingly ornate script:

• To perform this spell, place around a mirror or silver bowl containing water, an arrangement of dead flowers of any variety, then draw a circle on the surface with one finger. Then, quarter the circle, and strike it three times while speaking this incantation: “ostende mihi adversarium meum.” At the moment the spell is cast, any mirror that happens to show happens to show the caster's enemy in it will then pass that same image to the caster's mirror.

Next, Fabienne decides to purchase the Spell of Pathfinding, and slithers her tongue into the titillated vagabond’s ear. On her paper is written:

• Crush three breadcrumbs beneath thy right shoe whilst reciting this incantation: “lux semita, dirige iter meum, incolumem domum.” This shall cause a glittering path of light to appear at the caster’s feet, guiding them safely on their path.

Jezmina is interested to know if Vinculus has any spells that might help rid her of her stalker, known only to her as Silenus. He ponders on this for a moment, then disappears into his tent. Following him in, Jezmina receives the Spell to Make an Obstinate Man Leave Vienna. This scroll reads:

• This spell will make a man believe that every churchyard is haunted by the ghosts that are buried there and every bridge is haunted by the suicides who have jumped from it, until he is too afraid to pass either a bridge or church. Scatter one handful of cemetery dirt on the nearest bridge while saying the man’s name after this incantation: “pestem manes ut expellam te.” One can imagine that since Vienna’s 1,700 bridges are often only about a hundred yards apart and the churches considerably less, this is a major inconvenience.

Before leaving the tent, Jezmina pays the price for the spell with the kiss, drinking a bit of Vinculus’ blood in the process. The strange man’s vitae leaves her feeling curiously insightful, like the answer to every question is just on the periphery of her vision or behind the knowing smile of every stranger.

The Odd Couple:

The ostentatious Votivkirche, in Vienna, Austria.

Spells in hand, the coterie approach the Votivkirche and find an interesting pair of individuals taking tickets at the door. A flaxen haired woman with a disapproving stare, silently scanning everyone who enters, and a flamboyantly dressed man with a mop of black curls, taking tickets with no uncertain amount of flair. The coterie enters one at a time, and Doctor Engel scopes the place with her preternatural senses. She spies a hint of magic on the spells her associates just purchased and catches her first glimpse of the famed “Boston Banshee.”

A seemingly demure woman, she has a strange sort of ephemeral black gauze draped over her that appears to go unnoticed by everyone else. She is hanging on the arm of a well-dressed man that is speaking about her to a small crowd in an almost exaggerated British accent. The pair are curiously dressed all in blacks, whites, and grays, even their hair is devoid of color, and only the man’s red cravat provides any relief from their monochromatic aesthetic. She doesn’t speak often, but when she does it is with a curious accent, not Irish, though close, but perhaps that is how all Americans sound, none of our coterie is quite sure. The woman, whom a suddenly appearing Mirabelle is quick to inform the group, is in fact the medium in question, Miss Samantha Hain, accompanied by Lord Ephraim Wainwright of England.

Walking further into the church, the coterie takes in the scene, thousands of candles burn around the intricately carved marble statues that gaze down upon them. The cathedral’s feature rose window crowns an enormous pipe organ which sits directly behind the ivory and gold main alter. On the dais, a circle of chairs surrounds a great oaken table inscribed with the typical holy symbols found in most catholic artwork. In the center of the table is a small empty pedestal that seems to be awaiting its burden, yet the skull of Joseph Haydn, remains to be seen. Heavy wooden chairs circle the table and concerningly, the one seated directly before the altar seems to have shackles built into the arms.

File:Votivkirche Altar.png

The altar inside Votivkirche.

As the small crowd is settling in, the pair from outside come in and shut the massive church doors, barring them with a long wooden board. They approach the dais, prompting Lord Wainwright to guide Miss Hain to her seat at the head of the table. Once there, he turns to the crowd and entreats them to sit and behold Samantha’s prowess. He admits that even he did not believe she could possess such powers, as his original intent upon meeting her was to debunk her mediumship as just another knee-knocking charlatan of the American Spiritualist Movement. He also introduces the granddaughter of Haydn, there to witness the summoning of this illustrious spirit.

The skull of Joseph Haydn.

As everyone takes their seats, Lord Wainwright shackles Samantha into her chair before moving to the altar and opening a large wooden chest to reveal the ornately displayed skull of the celebrated composer. Sister Judith extends a shadowy tendril beneath the table towards the pair from the door, learning that they have been tasked with receiving the skull from Lord Wainwright after the ceremony. Victoria seems annoyed by his pomp and circumstance, but Azrial is curious as to whether the visiting Regent’s pet mortal can actually do what he claims she can. Placing Haydn’s skull on the pedestal, Lord Wainwright is then seated, and the séance begins.

The Banshee Cries:

Miss Hain places her palms flat upon the arms of the chair, takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. She lets her breath out, then repeats three times: “Spioradan tha mi ag èisteachd.” The language is unfamiliar to the coterie, but before they have time to ponder it, the medium’s eyes snap open, where before they were a pale, absinthian green, now they are completely black as pitch. A queer feeling comes over the room in a rush, a change in pressure, like all the windows of a house flung open by a storm.

Miss Hain channels a spirit within her body.

Then the sound begins, it starts as a hum, like the hurried wings of an insect buzzing by your ear, but as it grows louder it becomes clearer. Wings yes, but the wings of birds, it sounds like thousands of them, thundering through the air, cackling and cawing in their chaos, the volume of this invisible flock is almost deafening. As the sound reaches a fever pitch, Samantha’s body convulses, like she must vomit up the words “Chuala mé! I call upon the spirit of Franz Joseph Haydn! Let my body be your vessel, let my tongue speak your words!”

Silence befalls the great hall of cold stone and a voice like a distant sob on the wind swirls around the room. Samantha’s mouth is moving, but the voice seems to be coming from far away, it struggles and strains to be heard, like a scream trapped in a drowning man’s last breath. “My Vienna fell to ruin around me! Napoleon took it as I lay dying, but I played one last anthem for the emperor before I passed.” A gasp from his granddaughter, “He did, he did, it is all my mother ever remembered of him!”

“They took my body to Eisenstadt, but someone stole my head, a thief in the night who was dear to my heart. But the accountant is but bones and memories as I am, no vengeance can be wrought. His diary will tell the gruesome tale in many a long century from now.” His granddaughter confirms that they had always suspected his friend Rosenbaum, but never could prove it.

Suddenly, all the candles in the church gutter into an eerie pale green flame that burns so low, the church is almost enveloped entirely in darkness. Only the pale, gossamer moonlight streaming through the rose window illuminates the woman seated before the alter. Samantha’s head falls forward, her white hair ethereal and gleaming in the moonlight, draped around her head like crown of spider-silk. Her body goes limp in the chair as she whispers: “Spirit, what lies beyond The Veil.”

“A cyclone, a cacophony, a chorus beyond comprehension. It sings to me; it sings to me!” Samantha’s body jerks forward, her back arching and her wrists straining against the shackles, her fingernails claw voraciously at the wood beneath her hands. Her head snaps up and she stares dead ahead, her face twists and her teeth gnash as a different voice spews forth from her mouth, furious and forceful.

She locks eyes with Sister Judith:

• “To the devouring shade: Such ambition you have—though you are yet to become one with the ceaseless night. You will see many deaths ahead of you on this journey to the Black Pillar, your bridge is crossed, stand and watch it burn. There you will hear the voice of God, but you must first kill the messenger. I hold the key to the melody of The One, shatter its perfection with discord to catch one of The Many.”

She turns to Fabienne:

• “To the nightingale: There is nothing else in magic but the wild thought of the bird as it casts itself into the void. Walk through the mirror, shattered one, where the harum-scarum magic of small wild creatures meets the edges of your world and the language of the wind, and the rain, and the trees can be understood. Stare across time and you will find what you seek in the hands of Cassandra.”

Her empty black eyes fall upon Doctor Engel:

• “To the Angel: Hollow eyes have greeted you many times, once for each piece, you felt it in your bones. Your creator watches you closely from the shadows. Will you prove your worth or will you destroy him and his forge? The necromancer’s rival is come to make a trade, will you take the deal and defy thy father? A dire wolf paces in halls of the dead, he will lead you to the heretical truth.”

Tears begin to stream from Samantha’s eyes as she turns to face Lord Wainwright. This time the voice is her own, filled with despair, she sobs:

• “No, no, please, not you. Oh, Ephraim. To my love: A black spot will fall upon your prize in the chamber of stone faces—the Chevra Kadisha is on trial in absentia. The Elders have been turned against you and one by one, foretell your doom. Beware these heralds, The Childe of Light, The Death Seeker, The Burning Woman, The Amaranth. I would play the song that leads you out of oblivion, but I too have lost my way in the darkness.”

Chaos of Ravens:

With the last word her body falls limp, her head listing backwards as her mouth drops open. From the darkness the roar of wings begins again and with one last seizing of the poor woman’s body a chaos of ravens spills forth from her mouth. Obsidian wings fill the air like hands grasping as ravens batter the walls and windows and bewildered guests scream and drop cowering to the floor.

The ghost of Bronagh Hain as seen by Sister Judith.

Sister Judith takes the opportunity to blanket the room with a suffocating, tenebrous cloud that seems to suck the light, the sound, and the very air out of the space around the table. Within it however, Judith moves freely while watching the others panic and writhe in pain, that is except for Samantha, much to the Sister’s surprise. Within the cloak of Oblivion, these two alone can see, and Sister Judith notices the overlay of black gauze that covers the woman, transposed over her like a lace funeral veil. The medium watches curiously her as she mounts the table and reaches for the skull, saying flatly “Take it.” She continues to watch as, with skull in hand, Sister Judith moves to Azrial, her shadowy appendages holding the unwitting Tremere down in his chair as she disdainfully remarks “Suffer not a witch to live.” He tries to scream, but instead of sound, a flurry of black tendrils explodes out of his mouth as Judith sinks her teeth into his neck and drains him completely.

As she drinks the last of Azrial’s hearts blood, a vision flashes in Sister Judith’s mind, some of his last moments, perhaps. She watches through his eyes as he walks into the Opera House, in its unfinished state, she can see that the tridecagramm representing the Thirteen Clans has been carved into the subfloor. Curiously however, one of the clan symbols is missing, that of Clan Tremere. Her vision flashes back as she hears Samantha speak again, imploring her not to harm Ephraim. She says nothing as she turns to leave the cathedral, prize in hand, punching her way through the board holding shut the door. As she escapes with the skull, she drops the cloud of supernatural darkness and disappears into the throng of the marketplace at the foot of the church steps.

In the aftermath of the chaotic darkness, Victoria finds that Azrial has been drained to death and storms towards the front of the church seeing the doors are open. Margerete readies her sword and follows, preparing for a fight, but as she reaches the door she can see that Sister Judith is nowhere to be found and the Tremere woman is just standing atop the church steps in bewildered frustration. As she turns to walk back, Victoria confronts her, grabbing her shoulder and spinning her around to interrogate her about entering with that strange person.

Margerete is incensed that this person has dared to touch her, much less address her in such a way and gives the Tremere woman a severe dressing down. Victoria acquiesces, recognizing Margerete as Magda’s childe and a high ranking noble. In her embarrassment, she asks, and Margerete agrees, to accompany her the following evening as she tries to explain what has happened to Count von Richter.

The rest of the coterie find that after struggling a moment with Samantha’s restraints, Lord Wainwright has scooped the exhausted woman up in his arms and disappeared with her into the private chambers at the back of the cathedral. Fabienne checks on the granddaughter of Haydn and sings a soothing song to calm everyone, including herself, back down. Not unsympathetic to what these mortals have just experienced, she enlists Mirabelle to help the older lady out of the church and puts her on her way home.

It's a Date:

The coterie agrees to head to their havens for the evening, as it is getting close to sunrise. Upon arriving at the Birdcage Theatre, Jezmina is attempting to resume her normal appearance when she is interrupted by her sister of sorts, Svetka, Agrafina’s other childe. Svetka, being Jezmina’s rival in every way, taunts her about the slight improvement in her face and berates her for spending the evening slumming around with god-knows what rabble instead of practicing her forms for their next performance. The interruption throws Jezmina off and she ends up leaving her cheekbones just a little too high.

At the Medical School on the University of Vienna campus, Doctor Engel finds Professor Torin Volkovich waiting for her outside her office door. He seems nervous, yet excited to see her as he reminds her that the opening of the new anatomical anomalies exhibit at the Emperor’s Wonder Cabinet is opening the next night. He came to ask if she would still like to accompany him there, as they discussed previously, and she happily agrees, though seems a bit flustered herself.

The pair chat for a moment about their respective doctorates, hers medicine, and his evolutionary biology, and he talks about spending time with Charles Darwin in England, where his family fled from the antisemitic Russian Pogroms at the beginning of the century. He says that he knows it doesn’t exactly compare to the fight she must have endured to become one of the first female doctors in Vienna, but their mutual struggle to be seen as more than the conditions of their birth helps him sympathize. He then bids her good day, although fumbling with the words a bit, and says he looks forward to their outing the following evening.

Across town, Sister Judith has arrived back at St. Stephen’s Cathedral, she has managed to prevent detection or a tail by slinking through the shadows as she is well trained to do. She finds Cardinal Formosus in his chambers beneath the cathedral, adjacent to her own, and enters through his heavy carved wooden door. He is seated at his desk, many scrolls and books of ancient and arcane nature are spread out before him. She kneels beside his chair and presents the skull of Joseph Haydn, their sought-after prize, saying that the Tremere were but gnats on the backs of man, insignificant and incompetent. He is pleased, and commends her on this triumph, acknowledging her prowess in this matter, and in the defeat of his first childe, he well knew that the strongest would succeed and take their rightful place by his side. He will begin preparing for their ritual in the nights to come.

THE CONCLAVE

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