| Granite Home Page | 
|
"So you tell me, Childe, of fanciful nights revelling in the blood of your conquests and the vulgar displays of your newfound power over mortal men. How I long to hear your tales, for they assure me that I have left behind that life of filthy lucre. Oh, indeed you are now the Great Predator, but I ask, as you read these pages with your stained fingers, Does the blood wash away? Is your conscience still in tact? Have you yet to spend an entire night scrubbing your hands until they bleed, for simple want to remove the spots?"
"You see, Childe, the feeling is like no other, and more powerful than the conquest itself. It is our horror, complete and filling, that slow eclipse of the soul. You will not see what I say, of course, but that really does not matter. The night will come that you find yourself alone, with no one to talk to but your own reflection and the shadows that your actions have cast. Wear the moment well, if you can, but do not think to seek comfort in the haven of your Sire, there will be none to greet you."
"Should you survive your rampages, and your follies, and the ever growing emptiness, and the sheer numbing boredom, I shall teach you a thing or two about living again. Until then, do keep you honor in tact and attempt not to be too savage. For tonight, though, know that there are few routes to escape the road of damnation that you travel and fewer still with happy endings."
--Edmund Broghe, Elder, Clan Brujah,1597
| Granite Home Page |
|