Images of your old trainer float before you—a Brujah named Devin—long since lost to dust after one too many social infractions against the Blue Bloods. Still, you used your time together to your advantage, and you're a more able fighter because of it.
The moon rises as you slumber.
A New Night Dawns
Streetlights bathe shop fronts in bright pools while the occasional passing car barrels through runoff from recently melted snow, dashing it onto the closest part of the sidewalk. You move inward, toward the shops. Drivers tend to speed more in the early morning hours when there's less traffic on the road; they'll get slower and the traffic busier when the sun threatens to rise and the workday begins.
The exhibition hall isn't far from your haven and you believe the walk will do you good—give you time to clear your head. Unfortunately, you've barely had time to reflect on recent happenings when a man in a heavy coat moves to pass you on the left and you feel something poking you in the ribs.
"Turn right at the next crossing," he grunts. You look down. He's got something in his right hand, held underneath his coat and pointed at you. Of all the times to leave your weapon at home…it's been years since you carried it regularly, at least until the Blood Hunt. You'll have to remedy that, although you have no idea where you'd hide a handgun in a fitted suit.
You're no easy meat, though. No vampire is. Your assailant's face is vaguely familiar and it takes you a moment to place it before you recognize the Feral that Qui captured during your raid. You've heard that his adopted name is "Hauberk." You feel a phantom pain in your chest where Ward shot you the last time you were this close to him.
You have no idea what the Feral's motivations might be. Is he bringing you to Ward? Or maybe he just wants to lure you into a dark alley to dispatch you. Either way, you'll need to make a decision.