When the Bodies Hit the Floor
13th of November 2006 A.D.
As Madrigal Raith lunges at his uncle, face suddenly contorting from pleading to rage, a cornered predator who knows the only way to survival is ripping the throat out of the ones that drove him you reach into the flame invisible the place where will becomes force. It is not like last time, it feels like you could rip the roof off the building, like you could lift a truck, so of course it is no trouble you have no trouble pinning the vampire in place like a butterfly with needles though its wings, on display for all and sundry. So you are about as surprised as the crowd of vampires when the chain he's wearing sings once like a heavy pendulum and the and the red gem at its heart pulses.
Within there awakens a storm of fire a crystal heart that pulses crimson in echo of some distant horror. Upon every face the crimson light is cast, but yours and Lydia's, the shadows under their eyes grow deep, the furrows and lines that should have been upon ever useful faces, but it is you it is to you that it is turned when the face of the jewel cracks and crimson liquid,
blood sprays out.
There is no way I can dodge that, you realize at once, recognizing entropy magic to which the laws of physics and even the constraints of geometry mean nothing.
So of course you just put out your hands like you are trying to avoid being splashed by Matthew's water gun on the beach last year... and somehow it works green of your anima splashing against the red. For just a moment you feel a rancid taste in your mouth. For maybe two seconds it looks like what passes for peace had been mentained and the White King would be able to pass 'his' judgement, but the illusion of peace passes as swiftly as it had arisen.
"Behold the pale suppurating maggot that calls itself our king!" the Skavis patriarch spits, raising his emaciated arms as though in supplication. Not ten inches in front of his face a whirling vortex of flame that does not shine but devours light black as pitch arises surrounding his entire party.
"It is not real, he's an illusionist, him and Athanasius too!" you hear Lara shout across the room, barely catching a glimpse of her filled with hunger and with purpose as she lunges off the stage cutting the neck of one of the marked vampires almost clean off with an odd curved blade.
A kukri, Usum calls it, and not at all strange for one of the pari to wield, because of course he thinks life and death battle is a good time for a knife lore dump
Elsewhere you spy an elder wrap himself in shadow, another throws a circle of black dust around his feet with inhuman precision making the air hum like static around her. Leinth is nowhere to be seen. Younger vampires are not as subtle or esoteric, flowing together in pack and coteries, all awash with the pull of the demon within. For her part lady Malvora calls out to her kin to gather, but does not make any sign of warding or of aggression.
"Is it now?" you hear a voice laugh from the crackling flames. 'Are you sure about that?"
What do you do?
[] Kill Madrigal quickly and move down the list
[] Knock Madrigal out before moving on, you would like to know what a treasomous high placed vampire was doing at splattercon or why he was even a horror director to begin with
[] Write in
OOC: That talisman would have cast the equivalent of the Misfortune of Chernogolov at you if you had not counterspelled it only this thing is nasty and single purpose so it would have been permanent until broken. Not that -2 Successes to all rolls would cripple an Exalt, but they would at least have made you cautious of using any non-Key abilities that can botch. 
