Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ravnos had spent much of the past few years wandering like he did. He had lost track of a few of his favorite toys and now boredom set in once again. After time away from a place of roots he had returned to the run down mansion on the outskirts of Hemlock.

Within the city but still on the edge. Just the way he preferred it’s

Of course he wouldn’t stay here long. Maybe a few months or even just a week. The growing stir in the east was concerning to him but they were mere whispers in the shadows. But shadows often hid the unexpected and perhaps the most curious of things.

He had been lounging in the main hall. A long tail stretched out in front of him. The Disciple, like usual, had a thin cigar between his lips. The heavy scent of cloves and citrus hung heavy in the air.

The air in the room shifted suddenly as something entered his space. A familiar something although a bit unexpected.

Letting out a long breath of smoke he chuckled lightly as he fingered the carvings upon the goblet in front of him full of dark red liquid. “What brings the prodigal son to my door step? Come to confess your undying love for me yet? Or perhaps you have other things in mind.” His voice was thick and his accent was a little heavier than usual. Dark eyes glittered as Ravnos cast his gaze into the shadows.

Before the God had arrived he had been lost in memories. Memories of a life long gone centuries ago. A life that his father took from him. But he didn’t hold that indiscretion against Grendel. How else would have he become what he was now?

He took in a long drag before speaking. “Ahhhhh but when it dies it goes out with such a flame that it sears it to your…well I would say soul but we know that neither of us have one of those.” The corner of his mouth turned with a smirk. Smoke escaping between his teeth.

Watching the God pace he took a small sip from his cup. “You seem stressed.” Ravnos settled his cigar on the edge of a silver ash tray. The pacing was giving him a mild head ache.

“HA!” He smacked his hand down on the table at the statement. “But of course I am not like them. They worry about their politics when they don’t even realize that everything they have built is fragile. It would only take one small…” He pushed the air with an open palm as of he were toppling a tower of cards. “…push.” Ravnos flopped back into his chair. “I am my own man. The only thing I care about is me and my Clan. The others fear what they do not know and they do not know me.”

Tilting his head slightly, dark hair falling around his shoulders. Ravnos gave an indignant sniff. “Trouble brews in the East. Whispers of a Scarlet Queen reach my ears. Kindred numbers dwindle. I make of it we’re ********..”

As the other day he made note of how much higher up Grendel was sitting. An obvious show of superiority but Ravnos could care less about who was more powerful.

He took another casual sip of his drink, flicking his hand with an elegant flare. The gold bracelets made a soft tinkling noise as a cup appeared before the God. He his tongue over his fangs as he savored the flavor for a moment. It was nothing special. Just wine mixed with a bit of vitae.

The Disciple shrugged at the God’s question. He wouldn’t want to talk about the Red b***h either. “Boredom? Final death? I hear the Zamphir Goddess is calling her ilk home for some occasion. I would say Holykats but I haven’t seen one in a rather long time.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I suspect the only way you might find an answer to your question is to go out and ask.” His gaze looked Grendel up and down. “But not as you are.”

The air seemed to sizzle with each rise and fall of Grendel’s temper. It made his skin prickle just slightly. An odd sensation he rarely ever felt and it had been years since the last time anything could.

If Grendel was unimpressed with the drink Ravnos didn’t particularly care. Even a God could at least appreciate the fact that he at least offered him a drink in his home.

Ravnos rolled his eyes, brushing aside a strand of dark hair that had fallen over his brow. “And I assume I am the only one you have asked so far.” Quirking an eyebrow he gathered his cigar for another drag. The end flaring to life as he pulled the air in.

He eyed Grendel again as he let out a slow breath, smoke encircling in the air above him. “Quite the opposite.” Ravnos shot a cheeky grin at the Deity. He was going to get his a** smoted one of these days.

Clearing his throat he motioned towards the tendrils and shadows that clung to Grendel. “You need to look like one of them. Like a regular ol run of the mill, salt of the earth Vampire. You aren’t going to get any answers from them if you show up all doom and gloom. As you said, I am not like them. And they are not like me.”

To say he was impressed at the quickness at which Grendel shed his immortal coil was probably an understatement but he gave no real indication f such. It was slightly odd seeing him without the tendrils and….Godlyness. To be sure Ravnos wasn’t even sure if it was even possible for him to do such a thing.

Gods and all their weird s**t. Who knew?

But he also had to admit that the now “normal” Grendel was still quite a sight to look at. Which he did. He could tell that the God was looking for some kind of reaction. “Hmmm…” His eyes narrowed a bit as e gave him yet another look over. His gaze lingering maybe just a hair too long. “I suppose that will do.” He turned his cigar towards Grendel for him to take.

A thought popped into his head and he snapped his fingers. “Right! I’ve got it. There is a caravan outside the city that will be leaving soon. We will join them. The Romani in it know me, they will not object.” It was the perfect plan. They would travel with them and visit the various spots where different vampires congregated and Grendel could get answers to his questions. Ohhhh Ravnos had been waiting for something like this to come along. How fortunate it fell into his lap.

Standing from his seat he stood close with Grendel. For a moment he could have sworn he smelt different too. “If there are things you wish to bring along I would….” He stopped for a second noticing just how close the God was. “…I would gather them. We’ll take my own wagon so that we do not need to deal with the Romani’s too much.”

Ravnos rarely ever hesitated. But Grendel gave him pause only momentarily. He was used to the open flirtation. Heck flirted with numerous others. And they with him. But with a God? He had to admit he did not see that one coming and it all did not go unnoticed.

But what would happen to him if he explored this avenue?

The thought of Caine creeped into the back of his mind. Memories of that cave and what he had done to him the first time he had stolen from him. That all had led him to this. And while Caine had been gone a long time his lesson lingered.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Ravnos tilted his head in thought. Dark eyes watching Grendel’s lips only momentarily before he spoke. “As long as it needs to? I don’t suspect you would get a satisfying answer after just a couple days.”

How silly of him. Of course Grendel could just will whatever he wanted to him. A handy trick that the Disciple was jealous of. Ravnos of course could almost do the same but he had to already have the item he desired in his losession. He could not just will it into existence like a God could.

Right, clothing. Grendel had a point. They would need to avoid any suspicion among the Romani and he would need to fit the part. “Of course. Come. All that I possess is in the wagon.” Ravnos never kept anything of worth just laying about. He side stepped Grendel to move past him. His shoulder lightly brushing the other’s as he began to lead him outside into the darkness.

It wasn’t a long walk.

Soon they came upon a wagon that looked rather run down but with a snap of his fingers the illusion lifted and it seemed almost brand new. Ravnos moved to the door and pushed it open. “We’ll find you something in here then I’ll go find a horse to pull it for us.” Stepping inside Ravnos waited for Grendel to follow.

While the wagon seemed small in the outside the inside was another story. It opened up into a large room that was rather lavishly furnished. Silks and fabrics hung from the walls. Books and trinkets sat upon shelves and tables. It was obvious there was yet another room hidden behind a curtain of beads. The Disciple flopped into a tall backed chair with dark red velvet cushions. “You should be able to find something in the bureau in the bedroom which is through there.” He indicated with a jerk of his chin towards the door way with the beaded curtain. “Help yourself to whatever you like. My wagon is your wagon.” Another cigar appeared out of thin air as if it had been in his hand all along. The scent of cloves began to fill the space as he puffed on it.

Was that excitement in the air?

While Grendel had busied himself with choosing an outfit Ravnos had gone back outside to whip up a horse for the wagon. Or at least the projection of a horse. The wagon didn’t really require an actual horse to get it moving. A lovely spell he had left a certain Tremere’s library with.

As he returned to inside the wagon he spotted Grendel already seated wearing….an interesting combination of clothing. He didn’t remember that shirt being that color. And what was with the sunglasses? “I…” He scratched his goatee. “I see you’ve decided on an outfit.” Ravnos had to guess that Grendel didn’t wear clothes all that often. It wasn’t a bad choice in outfit just a curious one. Perhaps he should Ave picked something out for him. But on the other and the God needed to learn these things on his own if he was going to stay incognito.

The wagon lurched forward and soon it was on its way to the Romani camp.

Settling back into his previous chair Ravnos steepled his fingers as he watched Grendel. It was a curious thing this trip. Never did he think he would be wandering with a God. But it was the only way he could think of getting him the answers he sought. And then he found himself staring for a bit too long.

He returned to his cigar thoughtfully.

“This group follows a very specific migratory path. The next city they will camp near is home to quite a few vampires but there is a specific one that would probably be best to speak with.” Running claws through his hair he smirked. “A hot little Daeva with the voice of an angel. Of course singing isn’t the only talent she has with that mouth. She sings in this one club that she uses as her base for hunting.” He leaned back causing the chair to creek. “If you want to put a finger on the pulse of vampire goings on listening to the nards is a good start.”