VOX JUNE SPECIAL EDITION

WELCOME

Hello everyone, and welcome to the June Special Editon Issue of the VOX Newsletter. This issue is intended to give everyone a breather and I guess you could call it a quick fix for the summer, especially those of you awaiting Pride Peri Sourcebook.

Unfortunately, due to the rigors of business, the folks at Precedence weren't able to make any special articles for you guys for this issue, however, there is a mini-adventure that we have been given permission to publish for you, which you'll find later in the issue!

Again, welcome and enjoy!

WHAT'S UP AT PRECEDENCE

Since the folks at Precedence weren't able to give you the lowdown as it stands right now, I thought I'd at least contribute what I know is going on from my dealings with Ran and company.

First off, Pride Peri will be released at Gen Con this August. Now we know that everyone was kind of expecting this to be hitting the streets sometime back in June, but if that happened, then Precedence wouldn't have a new showcase piece for the biggest gaming convention in the world. IE - Read Bad. So please bear with all that as best you can.

As you also know from reading the update, there is a contest being sponsored by Precedence as well. Ran is going to be doing some more work on the web pages (Precedence's official ones) within the next few weeks if time allows him to. With this he'll get things more updated and finish off the last of the Pride Descriptions, something I know you all are waiting for.

So while things are still quite, the slow build is developing, and as Ran said last issue, I think that before the year is out, you will be pleasantly suprised.

Rick.

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

Hi everyone, Rick Don here again, with all the news that is, and isn't fit to print. Well, as mentioned above, the long awaited Peri book is finally almost here. We know its late, but if it is anywhere near as good as Dracul, you know it will be a doozy! Work continues on the 2nd Edition, and I've gotten to test out a few of the 2nd Edition concepts myself, and they will be worth every ounce of work going into them, (at least in the Editor's opinion [grin]).

The Live Action rules are receiving some beta testing as well, from what I've been hearing, and drafts are rumored to have been sent in to Precedence. So things continue on with that as well. In a last minute decision last month, Ran himself agreed to the sponsoring of the contest in this very issue, so make him proud of you gang!

This will be a short issue, kind of a tide-you-over until after GenCon, when big news should be forthcoming. The rules and setups for the various fan clubs are being worked on right now, and you can expect to see final rules and requirements begin appearing in the August Issue of VOX! So until next time . . .

Later,

Rick Don
Director - Society Eternity, Editor - VOX

CONTEST!

Okay, because you all wanted it, (well, a lot of you did), here are the official rules on the Pride Symbol contest!

Precedence Publishing is looking for new designs for the Prides logos. As you all know, the color pages with the Pride descriptions each have a logo in back of the text. However, Precedence has decided that something more based from the fan's would be better if possible. Now we can't take five-million color designs with lots of intricate details. What we are looking for are simple heraldic style designs (simple, like you'd see on a shield, not the actual crest type stuff), or other similar type of designs, in just a few colors, that could serve as the new logos.

We are only accepting submissions for the 13 sanctioned Prides. That is the Prides listed in the main original rules book, plus Pride Roane. Anything else will be turned away, sorry, the gentry aren't in . . . yet. You can either send your design attached to an email to the VOXPRESS@aol.com address, or mail it to the address listed under the Society Eternity section. Be sure your subject (or somewhere on your postal envelope) that it states Pride Symbol Contest Entry. All entries must be RECEIVED by August 3rd, so they can be taken by yours truly up to Gen Con so the good folks at Precedence can look them over. If you miss the deadline, sorry, this deadline is concrete!

All entries will become the property of Precedence Publishing, Inc. The winners will have their artwork published in an upcoming Precedence Immortal Product. So send in a logo for your favorite Pride, or send one in for every Pride for that matter, we'll look at all of them!

PASSIONS - Of the Anopheles
Rick Don

"So many of you claim that you know us all so well.  So many believe that we exist merely in lust or in murder.  Well, you are most correct, to an extent.  But in being correct, you limit your view of us, and of our Master Stroke. For the pleasures of the flesh are not the only feelings and sensations that we must collect if we are to beat the Beast at his own game."
Makeda - to the San Francisco Conclave, December 1995

It is all too often that Narrators and Players within the Immortal Experience sum up the Anopeheles with one word. . . sex. They forget that the Anopheles seek to experience all forms of feelings, both good and bad. Many elders will actually deprive themselves of certain things just for the feelings that the deprivation brings. Thus we come to a subject that enables the Anopheles to cope not only with the murderous instincts which run through their veins, but also helps to prepare them for the Rapture, and enable them to deliver their Master Stroke.

This ability is known as the Passions of the Anopheles. All Anopheles carry with them a Passion, though being Immortal, this Passion tends to change over the decades from one subject to another. Many Anopheles, when looking for recruits into their ranks, tend to seek Immortals who have a great Passion for something, even if it is not necessarily artistic in nature, that the twilight or Ingenue throws themselves into with abandon. This could be anything from gourmet cooking to professional dancing. The Anopheles hold their passions, and throw themselves into them in an effort to fend off the bloodlust that so many develop. The younger tend to switch Passions every few years, but the elders tend to continue on with the same Passion for decades at a time, exploring more and more intricate details of it.

To truly meet with ones Passion, the Anopheles seeks ever greater challenges, and many actually create and inspire others in doing so. Only through meeting these ever increasing challenges, does the Anopheles gain greater more fulfilling experiences to add to the Stroke. The Passions are part of the tests devised by the mysterious elders of the Pride, in order to help prepare the Pride for the Rapture.

In game terms, an Anopheles character must pick a Passion. Obviously, the most common one is that of sex. However, the mere act of sex is not the Passion. The act becomes something akin to an art form to the Anopheles, the Passion can never be trivialized. As long as the Anopheles continues to participate in his or her chosen Passion, he or she gains certain benefits. If an Anopheles stops participating in his or her Passion, or stops seeking ever greater challenges within it, then the bloodlust begins to build, and it becomes more and more difficult over time for the Anopheles to fight off the more violent urges that are present within all members uplifted into the Pride. It is also not easy to switch Passions, and it usually takes several months to do so. After all these are supposed to be things that the Anopheles are *passionate* about.

In system terms, the Anopheles must seek out new challenges involving his or her passion. If it is the playing a musical instrument, the Anopheles must either do things such as playing more and more difficult pieces, or perhaps creating newer and more complex pieces. If it is gourmet cooking, trying out new recipes, mastering difficult ones, and creating all new combinations could be necessary. Each time the Anopheles has done something which satisfies his or her Passion (as judged by the Narrator), the Narrator bestows a bonus to the Anopheles. The level of the bonus should be balanced by what was done. A Rank 1 success would be a plus 3 bonus for example. This bonus can be added to *any* one roll the Anopheles makes in the next twenty-four hours. If the bonus is not used, then it is lost. Those Anopheles which collect such bonuses but do not use them are looked on in favor by the elders of the Pride, for using the bonus effectively "uses up" the experience, and therefore it would never be able to be added to the Master Stroke.

If the Anopheles, however, goes for long periods of time without attempting to satisfy his or her Passion, then bad things begin to happen. After one week of not satisfying the Passion, the player has a Rank 1 Violence Hostile (red) that must be overcome anytime he or she goes to Himsati. After the second week, it becomes Rank 2. After the third, Rank 3. After five weeks, the Persona begins to experience the hostile while just in Human form, and retains the Rank 5 hostile when changing to Himsati. If a total of ten weeks goes by, the Persona must satisfy the bloodlust before the Hostiles can go away and even begin to satisfy their Passion once again. The chart below demonstrates.

The Anopheles are a very dangerous race, and their Passions can be just as dangerous. Not every Anopheles player is expected to pick up Passion, but once they do, the road and life change forever. Once you begin the path of having true Passions, you can never step off of it. It can become a dependency, a crutch against the bloodlust, but at the same time, it can become a masterful weapon, allowing one to deliver a mini-master stroke of their own. It allows one to ignore what are sometimes insurmountable odds, just by relying on the power of their satisfied Passion.

THE ASSEMBLY
The Editor would like to personally apologize to the Author, I can't remember who sent this in, and he or she didn't sign the actual story anywhere. If you tell me who you are, I'll put it up on Page 1 of the next issue with a nice pic of me eating crow.

Kit weaved between the cars, ignoring the blaring horns and the ghost-pain as a bumper hit him a little too hard. The here again/gone again flash was quickly negated by the panacea, unlike the bullet wound he had taken a few minutes ago. He could feel the throbbing hurt that the religarum in the round had caused, and bit back a groan.

You are definitely not making this easy, are you? Sean's voice echoed in his mind as he stumbled into another alley. He had been working his way through the maze of Vanier, avoiding the mini-malls and small homes, and sticking to the apartment buildings and dingy back-routes, hoping to avoid his pursuers. They've been chasing you for hours now. Why don't you turn and fight?

Kit ignored the voice, trying to keep his mind on his bearings. If he was right, and hadn't gotten lost, he'd be about six blocks from Downtown, and entering Magdalen territory. He kept one hand on the wound, slowing his bleeding, and panted as he stumbled through a grimy, narrow passage between apartments.

He had been sure he'd recognize agents of the Apocrypha, having tangled with them often in the past five years of his Immortal existence. These ones had surprised him, however, giving none of the tell-tale signs to which he was accustomed. He heard his pursuers keeping each other in voice contact as they chased him, and ran faster. A brief focus of his soul, and he leapt over a fence, turning into a new alley.

The searing pain of his injury, and the voices of his avatars, Legion, made it hard to concentrate. Both were a reminder to him that even an Immortal can die.  Do you think the Magdalen will help you? Samantha queried. I think it would be better to the Gloucester Mantle.

That's Nimrod territory. They never liked him, Mark countered.  "I know what I'm doing, let me think!" he gasped. He spun into another alley, and concentrated. He felt his soul shift momentarily, and the pain faded. Picking up his pace, he leapt for a wall.

The sound of his pursuers made him go faster, leaping from wall to wall, pushing himself higher to keep away from the agents after him. In a small corner of his mind, he heard, I wonder who informed them of our existence? Before he could consider an answer, he leapt over the rim of the building and onto the roof as bullets screamed past him. He panted, lying on his back, trying to catch his breath. Looking at his torn gloves, he watched the cuts on his palms fade.

Shame about the Ban, Kit, Sean teased. You certainly picked a poor day to be Morrigan.  "Shut up."  Don't worry, we'll get you out of this, Guardian assured him. Where do you want to go?

Kit searched the area, trying to listen for the Apocrypha whom he expected to be coming after him quickly. He sat up, "Once we get to downtown, we'll talk to the Magdalen regent, and then get our asses back to Kanata." He heard a low growl, deep within the recesses of his mind. Dark, an ancient Terat, was waking. I hope you've got a good leash on our friend. I don't want him coming up right now.

We've got him. They're coming up the fire escape.  Kit wondered how an avatar could hear something he didn't, pausing before he bolted for the other end of the roof, and peeked over. Elgin Street was below him, and he could see two black cars slowly moving down the road. They looked just like the car that had hit him as he was coming out of the nightclub in Vanier. "Aw, goddess!"

Ask, and I shall deliver, Samantha's voice purred in his mind.  He tensed, but knew she was much more capable of handling herself than he was. Go for it.

Samantha's fleeting image crossed his mind's eye as she became cardinal, and the darkness enveloped him.  Samantha looked over her body, and grimaced. Reaching into the aria, her sensitive ears picked out the strands of music she desired. Finding them with practiced ease, her vox vibrated, mimicking the music of creation.  Her body shimmered and flowed, allowing her to take the form she remembered from the past. As the serenade faded, she winced. Kit's clothes had always been too snug in the wrong places.   From the back of her mind, she heard Kit whisper, Sorry.

She grinned to herself, keeping an eye on the cars, watching them park under the building. The sound of her pursuers making it to the roof sent a thrill through her, and she stepped back. Giving the two agents a teasing smile, she ran, and leapt from the roof. As she sailed over the street, the leather trenchcoat she wore transformed into a snug leather jacket - a magic that Kit had requested from his Pride before he'd been released from the Creche - and landed catlike on the opposite roof. You should have joined the Anopheles, child, they would be taking care of you right now, her thoughts flashed to Kit, taunting but playful.

So I wanted to be a raven, okay? I happen to like the Morrigan just fine.  Samantha ran from building to building, her leaps carrying her across city streets and obstacles effortlessly. As she ran, she gained momentum, appearing almost to fly as she made her way to the downtown district.  There, she paused. She watched the freeway traffic that flowed from downtown to Kanata, and smiled to herself.

What about the Magdalen regent? Kit asked her.  I have better plans, Samantha thought back. Plans that do not involve them at this time.  Kit's alarm was evident. What? What are you doing?

Samantha smiled quietly, her feet flying over the rooftops as she ran and leaped. She felt the raven's wings grow from her back as she lifted into the air, her senses suddenly piercing the barriers into the Blue Air. I want to see my kin first. We have a lot to discuss.

***

Kit sighed, content to watch Samantha as she nagivated her way through the city, towards whatever destination she had in mind. His avatars knew the city almost as well as he did, and he credited that fact to his coming out of Lethe early.  Lethe doesn't work like a clock, Kit. There's no such thing as 'early'. Guardian replied. You were waking. It just took a while for you to realize what you were becoming.

Kit considered this information as he studied Samantha's route. But none of you knew who or what you were either. Well, perhaps Dark knew, but none of us did, really. He sensed Guardian's quiet acknowledgement of his words. Samantha, we're in Vanier, aren't we?

Samantha gave a brief nod, slipping down into a convenient alley. She paused, searching the aria for another serenade to aid her. Detecting the familiar harmony, she echoed it with her vox, and felt the familiar sensation of its effects wash over her. She smiled to herself as she felt Legion shift inside her, uncomfortable with what she'd done. "Relax, boys. I know what I'm doing."

Elgin, to the trained eye, was a slowly decaying region. The fight against the Adversary was particularly difficult, and as such, Samantha took care to carefully examine her surroundings as she travelled. The streets were mostly empty, the rare car passing, or a couple leaving some late-night party and making their way home. A familiar hunger passed over Samantha as she eyed the pedestrians, making her pause.

Save it, vampire. There's no time to play. Mark's voice was serious.

Not my fault Kit sinned.

Just do what you have to do, and let Kit up again. We have work to do.

Samantha sighed heavily, "Men." She slipped into another alley, trying to ignore the gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach. She crept up to Cafe Wim, a small restaurant that usually went unnoticed by the other Perpetuals. Stepping through the courtyard behind it, she relaxed and entered, the smells of coffee, cheesecake, human sweat, and cigarette smoke familiar to her. The faint sounds of Souxie and the Banshees' Fear of the Unknown could be heard overhead, and she ignored the rustling of napkins and newspapers as the wind followed her in. She walked up to the loft in the back corner of the cafe, grateful that no Twilights were using it at the moment.

Out of sight of the patrons on the main level, she headed towards the window looking outside. The ripple of change over her made her smile. The Anopheles' secret mantle was still intact.  The cafe was replaced by a small, comfortable room. In it there was a single table, and a small wet bar was visible to one side. The carpet was soft under her, and she slipped out of her running shoes, then took off her socks, letting the lush texture caress her feet.  The room was done in different shades of red, from the poppy red of the carpet to the rich wine-colour of the walls. The table and wet bar were cherrywood, and the lamplight reflected all these colours warmly. She slipped out of the too-tight leather jacket and rubbed her breasts, sighing with relief. The t-shirt underneath prevented much of a show, but the room's two other occupants looked up with amused expressions. The one at the table waved to her, while the bartender simply grinned to herself.

"Hello, Cassandra," Samantha said, heading to the table to join the one that waved, "It's been a while, sister." Cassandra stood, and they hugged. "How is life treating you?"

Samantha purred, stretching before she sat down at the table. "Being an avatar is not what I expected, though I do recall doing this a few times over. Kit's kinder than others have been."

Was that a compliment? Kit asked, jokingly.  Samantha refrained from replying, and thanked the bartender as she took her drink. Looking at it, she frowned, not able to identify the type.  "I know Kit's opinion of alcohol, that's called a 'blizzard', Cassandra volunteered. "A bunch of candies mixed into ice cream. Use a spoon."

Samantha rolled her eyes, but ate. She savoured the individual flavours as Cassandra watched her carefully. After a few minutes, Cassandra straightened up, "Our Pride's been worried about you. it hasn't been easy hiding the activities of your Cadre, and remain anonymous at the same time."

Samantha looked up from her blizzard, "Someone's taken an interest in us, it seems. We were chased down by what Kit believes are Apocrypha tonight." She indicated the bullet hole and blood stain on her t-shirt.  Cassandra examined the t-shirt. "Take that off, and I'll get you a change of clothing." She motioned to the bartender, then looked at Samantha, "Continue."

"The Morrigan and Magdalen are still working together on whatever project they have going for Kit and Shifter. The Banjax, as expected, are separate, so any co-operation between those three Prides are through our Cadre alone." Samantha stripped off her shirt, handing it to the bartender, who smiled once, then walked off.

Cassandra pursed her lips, "Damn." She reached down and prodded Samantha's injury. "It didn't blow through. Did you get the bullet out?"  Samantha shook her head. "We didn't have the time to, sorry." She winced as Cassandra's fingers entered the gash, feeling for the bullet. Cassandra held Samantha steady, and pushed in further, finding the metal inside her, and slowly began to draw it out.

Samantha whimpered in pain, exploring the feelings and responses her body gave in response. When the bullet finally came out, she panted, looking down at the fresh blood coming out of the wound. "It's so wonderful to feel alive."  Cassandra shook her head in wonder at the younger woman. "You haven't changed, sister." She took the damp cloth and change of clothes from the bartender, and cleaned the wound. As she wiped the blood free, she started to sing, her vox vibrating.

The flesh slowly began to knit under Cassandra's attentions, and Samantha cooed in pleasure. When it finally sealed, she licked her lips and gave Cassandra a suggestive look.

Nope. Nada. No way, Samantha, Kit protested.

This is neither the time nor the place, Mark agreed.

Cassandra smiled, as if sensing the argument springing to life in Samantha's mind. "No privacy, hmm?"  Samantha pouted, but stripped down and gathered the fresh clothes to dress. "You would think they'd loosen up and just enjoy themselves."  The older Anopheles smiled quietly, "Unlikely. I have known each of them from one time or another, and I seriously doubt they would take a break when they have a duty to perform." She watched Samantha dress, and pressed, "Explain this situation with the Apocrypha, please."

Samantha sat down at the table again, "These agents looked and acted differently than the ones we're used to. Instead of government agents or religious zealots, they reminded Kit more of 'businessmen'. They seemed to organize themselves through indirect methods."
Cassandra nodded to herself, and rolled up Samantha's old clothes. "I figured. The city has a new player called The Assembly. We don't know too much about them, except that they might be Apocryphal, and they've been battling the local Jugglers on a business level."  Samantha finished her blizzard, then frowned as she noticed the gnawing pangs of hunger hadn't faded. She half listened to Cassandra, her thoughts turning inward: "I'm hungry!"

The unease inside her brought a smile to her lips. She knew Legion would eventually succumb to her taboo, and let her have her way. She just hoped it was soon.   "Samantha?" Cassandra asked.  She looked back at the older woman, "How are we supposed to deal with these ones? They're acting like some sort of hellfire club."

Cassandra thought about that, then peeked under the table, watching Samantha's foot glide up her leg. Giving Samantha a curious glance, she ignored the foot and shifted in her seat, "The Jugglers will do most of the work, I assume, but your Cadre will be called on for one or two key strikes. Between the four of you, I'm certain this will be dealt with."

Samantha paused in her flirting to give a slow smile, "I'm certain." Her gaze turned almost predatory.  Cassandra smirked and stood up. "I'd love to play, sister, but I'm needed back in Tokyo." She smiled and walked towards the entrance of the mantle. "I'd suggest letting Kit back up."  Samantha watched Cassandra leave with a mixture of disbelief and frustration. "What?"

She knows how to play the game better than you do, 'sister', Sean taunted, laughing.  "But... but..." Samantha squirmed, grabbing her jacket and heading for the exit as well. "Bitch!"

From what I recall of the Anopheles, Samantha, they respect more subtle seductions. You were being a bit bold. Guardian commented. And she knew that was our taboo speaking, not you.

Samantha sulked for a moment, then relaxed, her hunger pangs fading. "I'm going to rest. Kit, take over."  Kit's eyes fluttered open, and she looked down. Blinking in surprise at her body, she glanced over at the bartender and blushed. She searched for the serenade that would rectify her condition, and once she found it, quickly transformed back to normal.  The bartender grinned, continuing to polish her glass as she looked Kit over. In a flash of insight, Kit managed, "You're this mantle's Tryst, aren't you?"

The bartender nodded once. "Yes, I am."  Kit nodded briefly to himself, and looked at the empty cup that held Samantha's blizzard. "Okay... umm... do you have anything to eat here? I need to fill my stomach before I head out."  The Tryst laughed, "Sure." A plate with a hamburger and fries appeared on the table, and the blizzard cup was replaced with a coke.  Kit smiled, "Good choice." He focused on the aria again, and sang another serenade - carefully. Feeling the subtle change as his himsati transformed back to normal, he sat down, and motioned to the seat across from him. "Want to talk?"

STRANGER VOICES:
THE CHRONICLES OF ABRAHAM WITT
By Cameron Lyle

"Stranger voices than mine do haunt the corridor of night --
And louder ones do contest my Word.
But we shall see who in the end doth Scream the sky --
And who’s voice is finally heard."
-- From the Archives of the Solitaire at the Magdalen Crèche of Jeremiah; one of dozens of reported "last words" by the legendary figure.

I.
DAY 13 (December 12, 1994):
--Howard Beach; Queens, New York--
11:48 p.m.

There’s always pain, in the beginning. It’s a rule, written in stone -- that last by the way! that God forgot to clue us in on but always meant to. It’s that final commandment He just never got around to passing on to Moses; Thou shalt hurt like a mother every know and then....

Abraham clutched his side, blood running down it in small tides and eddies. He tried to smile at the thought but couldn’t; not even sarcasm could replace the feeling of not having a bloody gash torn through him -- a feeling he firmly wished he was experiencing right this minute.  It would heal. Eventually.

Stumbling, he moved down the darkened street, glad for the cover of night. It was cold; he let it inside, let it clutch and claw at his spine, working the chill into him, letting him know that he was alive.  He could still feel Enych’s Ripple; the sum of every evil that that thing had ever done. It was a bad taste in his soul.  And Abraham had let him in; he had sung his Serenade and had lost the melody, sending his own Ripple across the Habitat and into the Dominions themselves. He had weakened the fabric of the Nadir, and had allowed the Sanguinary’s minion passage through.

Being immortal wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.  The New York night spread out before him; vast and wide, a great community of lights cresting the surface of a concrete sea. He looked upon it like a drowning man; Pride Roane would have been proud of the metaphor.  Pride Nimrod, on the other hand, would be looking for him right about now. They would want to know why he had broken the Silence.

And of course there was Enych to deal with. He couldn’t do it alone; he needed to find Club Eternity. But first he needed to hide.  Too maneh’ enemies in this bloodeh’ place.... Maybe Ah should have just let Enych kill meh’.  Abe’s head hurt. Wars were apt to do that to him.

Pulling his coat more tightly around himself, he made his way down the street. It was late; he was alone save for the occasional passing car.   Snow, glinting the color of sulfur under the yellow of the street lights, drifted down in uneven patches, blanketing the sky. Soft jets of steam lifted from his side as his own hot blood met the cold of the air.  How long? he wondered. How long until th’ Nimrod fahnd meh? His mind reeled; it was difficult for him to think.

JFK airport sat quiet in the distance; there were no rumblings, no signs of life from it -- the snow had seen to that. It was the snow which Abraham hoped to use; if he was lucky, it would serve to make things just difficult enough for the Witches to buy him the time he needed.  He watched as he moved, nearly dragging himself, his dirty yellow eyes moving too, looking for a stirring in the shadows. His steps were maddeningly slow; the gash in his side formed a dull ache across his body.

Behind him, Abraham suddenly heard what sounded like the baying of a dog. He knew better.   And he panicked.

Damnit! They’re so damned fast! What the hell am I doing?  And then he knew.  With a spike of warm breath pouring from his mouth, Abraham began to sing the Metaphor as he ran. It was a risk; he could ill-afford to invite more taint into himself. But if worst came to worst, it still gave him a chance of escape.  A very small one.

He darted down a small street, hoping to lend a sense of the erratic to his movements. If the Nimrod knew where he was going, they would know what he now planned to do. He hoped that they hadn’t felt his Visage yet. Its power would reveal him if they did.   He glanced downward; saw the footprints he was leaving in the snow. He knew he could not hide them. They would have no trouble following him once they found his trail.   And then the silence of his thoughts was broken by the sound of thunder in the streets.  A bullet tore his shoulder open, spinning him, knocking him to the ground in a spray of heat and blood. More gunfire erupted; Abraham laughed as his shoulder began to heal.

Shouting and screams built to a sudden crescendo around him; a car peeled out in front of him, nearly hitting him as it did. Figures flowed out of an alleyway, moving in mad circles amidst the chaos.  Abraham got up, smiling. Ah’m in th’ middle o’ a gang fight, he thought. Of all th’ dumb, stupid luck....

But the chaos would not confuse the Nimrod for long -- even if the fighting was still happening when they arrived.  Abraham took the opportunity. His hand still clutching his side, he darted right through the middle of the street, vague forms around him noting him only peripherally as he did. A bullet caught him in the back. He slipped, slid, splayed spread-eagle in the snow for a moment, then was up and running yet again. The pain was bad; what the Nimrod would do if they caught him would be worse.

Before him, Bay Boulevard spread out. Beyond it; the Shellbank Basin. He could see the light flickering off of the water there; he did not wait to admire it.  Another howl erupted behind him, followed by gunfire and screams. A metal shout of screeching tires and twisted steel rang out; the car which had nearly run him down had just impacted with something else.

They were close now. Abraham heard the high-pitched cry of a large bird somewhere up above, coupled with the sound of chain rattling in the wind.  The Boulevard was empty; he moved across with little hindrance. The inlet stretched out before him; water slowly lapped at the concrete shore where he stood.   It wasn’t frozen, but Abraham knew it was close. He struggled with himself, demanding that the power of his soul shift to strengthen his stamina. He could only hope that he didn’t surrender to the shock of the temperature when he plunged in.

Because he knew that under water was the only place where the Nimrod would not be able to accurately follow. With the power his soul gave to his Halo, he could hold his breath for hours. He hoped it would be enough time.  A growl, deep and bitter, echoed across the water. It had come from right behind him.

Time was up.  He closed his eyes and dove.

The information presented in here is to help clarify rules and concepts in the game.  Clarifications can be considered official; but ideas to answer questions that aren't at all answered in the books are NOT official, but the current thinking by Precedence Publishing.  As always,  the books are the final authority, and printed material that comes out later may supersede what you see here.  Send in your questions to VOX (with a subject of FAQ) and we'll see what we can get Ran or someone at Precedence to answer for us.  We also have a large archive of FAQ material, for both the older versions and concepts of the game and the newer ones.

RADIO ETERNITY

From DJ's Nick, Raz and Katya

Hey ho one and all in the land of the everliving, this is DJ Nick here, calling them like I see them. Along with my lovely assistant DJ Katya, we are pulling in all the stops and then pulling them all out again.
Well, it seems we had a nasty attack on our substation down in Central America, shortly after we sent out that report on the Argentinian conflict last week. Figures we've once again upset another loyal listener. Guess not so loyal after all huh? Well, that's okay, cause we've rerouted right through to our new substation in Acupulco, and we dare anyone in the Perpetual Stinkery to come and take this baby out! DJ Raz is out in the field this week, taking a look into a few new spots to broadcast from and interviewing a few new candidates for those stations. Ah, let's face it, he's bumming around again!

And now, on to the news that's fit to print, but your Emissaries won't tell you.

United States

North Salem, New Hampshire:  Mystery Hill --

Once again the Tautha/Nimrod prized standing stones of Mystery Hill are drawing the attention of the other prides. This time because of a massive influx of droves in and around the area. Not one, but two waves have appeared in the area in the last month, leaving behind a streak of mayhem that's deeply effecting North Salem, proper, itself. Keep your wits about you if you're planning a trip there anytime soon.
-- DJ Nick


Minnesota:  Twin Cities and Surrounding Area

A powerful and sudden thunderstorm blew through the entirety ofsouth-central Minnesota towards the end of May, spawning tornadoes and hail, causing some flooding, and knocking a great number of both powerlines and trees down. The majority of the damage appeared to occur to the outlying and sparsely populated suburbs near a large concentration of lakes.  Reports from our friends in the field state that this storm was less than natural, possibly caused by the Morrigan to mask a large battle with an enemy from local Twilights, or even a manifestation of the Silhouette.  Many main and side roads were blocked off by both law enforcement and fallen trees, later revealed by the compilation of reports to strategically close off an area semi-circular in shape. Undoubtedly where Morrigan clean-up crews were erasing evidence of the battle.  Further, a number of Eremite Probes (with dog Himsatis), were spotted running along the shores of a number of lakes in the area immediately afterwards. Their involvement in the matter is unknown. It is known that they have been searching for evidence of Dark Roane activity in the many lakes of the region for months.   Perhaps they found it.

It should also be noted that southern Minnesota and the Twin Cities area has been struck with a number of similar storms, including one a few weeks later that knocked power out in the city-area proper for up to a week in some areas, an unheard of occurence previous to this.  It is unknown what exactly is happening and why, but assumed that something big is going down...
-- DJ Katya


Florida: Try anywhere in the state

Well, if you haven't heard by now, Florida is on fire gang! It started up in the Northern Reaches of the state, where rumor has it that a large possibly *corrupted* Fire Primal, no I am not stuttering here people, started setting fire to a large range of Tautha protectorates in the area. At this point, the Tautha, along with the Terat, have called in the Phoenix to help them get the blazes under control. The alleged Primal has continued heading south, and the blazes have gotten almost all the way down to Fort Lauderdale. Amazingly enough, the blazes have not yet entered into the actual Everglades, reputed home of the Creche of Pride Arachne. Reportedly, the Arachne have been coming out of the Glades in large numbers to try and track down the alleged arsonist. At this point, any Immortal going into and out of Miami is also being highly inspected and watched by the Banjax, who still maintain major power in that area. No reason for why the fires were set has been found, and no one has caught the arsonist either. Suggestion, if you go to Florida, bring an extra bucket of water, or ask the Roane to send a small tidal wave at the poor beleaguered state. Geez, can't wait until it gets close to Orlando and Peri-Rats and Magdalen-Ducks get their Disneys in an uproar too!
-- DJ Nick

PORTUGAL

Lisbon: São Vicente's Church

Big activity as the Magdalen, the city's Siege, move to assert and control the events surrounding the closing of São Vicente's church, after its priest went insane and commited several bizarre ritual murders, until he was killed himself, supposedly by an "angel". No one has been able to locate the presumed Eremite. Great interest is focused on the retrieval of the priest's missing personal Bible, which is reported to contain personal addendums and mad ravings, including entire extra chapters. It is rumoured that the priest had been in intense contact with a corrupted former arachne, a sleeper turned to the Beast, which may have caused the priest's deliriums. This has heightened the Magdalen's interest in the book. We can but guess what the corrupted one's plans are, but she has not been located so far, and Morrigan slayers have appeared over the cityscape. A Magdalen Juggler has reportedly disappeared, at the same time as members of the Arachne are reported in the city.
-- DJ Katya

Hey, give us a call at Radio Eternity if you've heard something that might interest the rest of our listeners!  Just let us know that your calling in with news that's fit to print! (Subject line should read Radio Eternity).  

This broadcast and all others are dedicated to the memory of Aaron P. who was captured during a devastating Arachne raid on one of our substations three years ago.  We miss you man.