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Friends-1879 Arlington Virginia -garith's Embrace; CLOSED TOPIC - DO NOT POST
Topic Started: Nov 21 2005, 06:06 PM (304 Views)
Dillon Cloudhawk
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The war they had all known was coming did indeed come. During those years Dillon only saw Gairth twice. Once as a physician, though they never acknowledged that they knew each other. During that time it was safer to remain strangers, than quasi friends, bound by a strange adventure four years earlier.

By the time of the Civil War, Dillon was made aware that the young Lieutenant was marked by the Tremere clan. He had obtained their attention at an early age, and so they watched, waited and evaluated his growth.

Years after the War had ended, Gairth did indeed prove to be worthy of the Clan. The one that had sought him out Clarence Mercer, a freed slave and Tremere of some rank, sought him out again.

"It is time." The black gentleman said quietly his dark eyes studying Dillon without comment.

"Bring him to us tomorrow night."

Dillon slowly closed the book he had been reading and inclined his head. Before dawn of that day he had a note composed inviting Garith to dinner and to meet a business associate that showed interest in helping repair the damages the war had wrought.

The Tremere of more than 20 years didn't question the right or wrong of this. He knew Gairth on a personal level, and knew the man to be worthy of the dark gift. He would go far within the ranks of the clan and be of great value.

Over those years the two had continued to meet when Gairth was in Arlington on business. Over drinks, or dinner. They talked about everything and nothing. The one constant that remain unspoken between them was, Isi.

Dillon never spoke of her, and Gairth respected that, never pushing for more information.

The next evening found Dillon at the hotel where the three of them had met almost two decades ago. He sat at the same table in the chair Isi, has sat in toying with his drink as he waited for Garith.

His dark eyes looked up as the younger man entered. Once again Dillon was struck by how Garith carried himself. Confidence flowed from him; his brown eye reflected an inner strength, one without bitterness that many came back with after the war ended.

Dillon stood and held out his hand. "Gairth, its good of you to join me on such short notice."

Prejudices were still part of life, but after so many years in Arlington, most were not resigned to Dillon and his friendships.

"The gentleman I spoke of has invited us to join him for dinner. His estate is about an hour's ride outside of town." The Tremere's eyes were filled with apology as he continued. "It was a last minute change or I would have contacted you sooner. Apparently something came up and he was unable to break a commitment."

"I arranged a carriage for us. Tell me, how does it go, its been a month since I last saw you. Did you get Johnston to back down on that outrageous price he was asking for the lease?"
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Garith Monroe
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Much had transpired in the years since Garith and Dillon had first met in Arlington. Now, nearly twenty years after that fateful meeting, he greeted Dillon warmly, his face youthful for one who had been through hell and back in the War of Northern Aggression, and belying his thirty eight years of age.

He chuckled softly at Dillon's question and shrugged slightly, a glint of amusement in the soft brown eyes.

"Don't fret the change, Dillon. It is of little consequence. Ah'm lookin fo'ahward to meetin this businessman."

As Dillon inquired after a business deal, Garith once more chuckled, spreading his hands palms up to the side and offering Dillon the warm smile the Doctor had come to know.

"Johnston no long'ah is an issue. It seems he had not paid the prop'ahty taxes and the buildin in question was auctioned fo'ah the taxes. Providence picked it up fo'ah pennies on the doll'ah."

As the two walked out to where the carriage waited, they chatted amiably, as old friends should.
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Dillon Cloudhawk
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The Tremere Doctor wasn't all that surprised when Gairth told him what happened with Johnston. Since the end of the war, he had proved his business acuity time and time again. Some might have thought it 'luck', but Dillon knew better. Behind that southern charm laid a shrewd business man.

Once past the outskirts of town Dillon slowly turned the subject to the matter at hand. "I wanted to prepare you; the gentleman whom you will meet tonight is a former slave." His dark gaze rested on Garith for a moment. "He has yet to come forward, and uses a more 'acceptable' personna. You may have heard of his personna - a gentlemen by the name of Beau Clancy."

Clancy was a northerner that had been a southern empathizer. He had helped fund the south's efforts during the beginning of the war, until his affiliation had become known and his assets frozen. Years after the war, he had been able to recover, though not totally to the magnitude of his former self.

"Clarence, Clarence Mercer, was a freed slave before the war, and during the war helped Clancy. Now the situations are reversed. The man has an uncanny sense for what will turn a profit."

There was truth in all Dillon shared with Garith, there was much omission too. What he didn't say was Clarence was over 200 years old. He business sense came much from his own past experiences along with clan learning, but even still, no one came close to what Garith had accomplished in his short mortal lifespan.
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Garith Monroe
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He nodded as he listened to Dillon.

“Ouah troops and ouah cause wheah greatly indebted to Mistah Clancy. Ah look foahwahrd to meetin him and the Freeman Clahrence.”

The middle aged businessman grew silent and thoughtful as he looked out of the carriage out onto the moon kissed landscape. “Dillon, do ya think a hundred years from now, theyll remembah ouah cause? Oah will they lose sight of it with all the ruckus an writin about the slavery?”

His voice had a melancholy softness to it and when he looked back at Dillon, he sighed.” Ahve been readin editorials...we ahr not twenty yeaahs since General Lees surrendah an folks ahr dismissin the true Sothron Cause out of hand.”

"I don't know my friend." Dillon replied just as softly. His lips twisted in a bitter smile which was gone almost the moment it appeared. "The Trail of Tears was dismissed, Jackson hailed man of vision, while my people spirits wander lost in a land not theirs forgotten by all but those of us who cherish their memories and pray for the Great Spirit to take them home."

His mother and father had been two such lost spirits. Dillon did indeed pray that they had found each other in the after life and now resided in peace with their forefathers. He shifted in the carriage, knowing that they both would learn the truth of how history would view the war. A century from now, as they advanced in the clan ways, perhaps they would again speak of this and look back at what man chooses to remember.

"I hope that through your endeavors and those of people like Clancy and Clarence, the truth will be remembered and not lost."

Dillon turned and grinned a bit wickedly at Gairth. "Have you ever considered buying up a newspaper? Just think of the editorials you could have influence over."

Garith’s laughter was short lived as he grew thoughtful once more, the wheels visibly turning behind the brown eyes. “Hmmm...a newspaper... maybe...NO! A publishing house! An not emotion laden, misguided editorials but historic books based on recoahded facts! An biographies an fist hand accounts an autobiographies! Dillon, Thats It! Ahll set Providence lawyahs to wok fist thing in the mornin lookin foah a publishin house to buy. Oah well staht ouah own. “ The businessman’s mind was racing with the possibilities, having no idea that
by morning, his life would be drastically different.
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Dillon Cloudhawk
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"You do that my friend. I think it is an excellent idea!" Dillon did indeed, not only for the reason's Garith laid out, but for the Tremere Clan it would be a perfect way of communication, unrealized by any. Who would think a autobiography, or a book of poetry, could contain messages needed at important times. A publishing house was perfect.

The full moon lit the way to the elaborate wrought iron front gates which stood open, leading up another half mile to the mansion itself. The driver who was a ghoul of Clarence's halted the horse and leapt down, bowing as he pulled out the steppes for the men to descend.

Dillon nodded his thanks, and led Garith to the front door of the home that held with in it the Tremere Chantry, and his fate.

Garith thanked the coachman as he alighted from the carriage, then followed Dillon up to the estate's front doors. He had grown thoughtful again, his mind
switching between this new business venture and what little he knew about the men he was going to meet this evening.

Inside their coats were taken and they were lead through the foyer to the formal waiting room.

Clancy rose as the men entered a ready smile on his withered face. Time had not been kind to the man . Though in his late forties, he appeared much older, tiredness reflected in his pale eyes, as he slowly walked towards Dillon and Garith.

"Dr. Cloudhawk, it is good to see you again." He extended his hand and shook Dillon's before turning to Garith.

"May I present Garith Monroe, owner of Providence International." Dillon responded. At one time Clancy had been marked to become Tremere, taken for a ghoul, observed, educated. It was unfortunate, what had started out as a promise of a new clan member faded away. Clancy wouldn't survive much longer; the decision had been made to terminate his life.

Dillon had a feeling the man knew. "Garith , Beau Clancy." He finished simply. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Clarence waiting in the shadows. Dillon excused himself as the two men greeted each other and began a general conversation.

"You have thirty minuets."

The Tremere doctor inclined his head "Do you wish to be introduced now?"

Clarence hesitated his dark eyes studying Garith from the shadows before nodding slowly. The black man silently followed Dillon back to where the two men stood.

Dillon waited until both looked up then smiled and stepped to one side. "Garith, may I present Clarence Mercer."

The former slave held out his hand without hesitation to the southerner. He was already aware the man had few prejudices. It had only enhanced his desirability for the Clan. "My pleasure, sir." Clarence said softly.

He gave a semi formal bow, then "If you all would excuse me, I am making preparations for our dinner. I look forward to talking with you later."
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Garith Monroe
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His eyes met Clancy's then Dillon's before bowing again and silently vanishing from the room.

While Beau Clancy was MAYBE ten years his senior, he appeared older. The stresses of the War followed by the additional stress of rebuilding following the war had taken their toll on many good people. Garith shook hands with Clancy as he spoke to the older gent warmly.

"S'uh, it is indeed a pleas'ah and an hon'ah to make the acquaintance of a man of you'ah reputation among the CSA lead'ahship. Ah have to tell you you'ah timely suppo'aht was much appreciated by Generals Longstreet and Lee and the oth'ahs who served with us."

Their conversation took a generic turn, the generalities of doing business in a post-war Southern economy, etc, as Dillon moved off briefly.

Garith's attention was shortly reclaimed by Dillon as the Doctor rejoined them, a dark skinned man who presented a genteel character with him. Garith shook hands with Clarence without hesitation, offering the former slave the same warm smile he had extended to Beau Clancy.

"A pleas'ah, S'uh. Dillon speaks well of you. Ah look fo'ahward to visitin with you lat'ah."

The conversation over the next twenty or so minutes was light and explored various aspects of each man's interests. All three sat in the parlor, brandy sifter in hand speaking of the political climent, to the rising price of goods being shipped from other countries.
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Dillon Cloudhawk
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Beau met Dillon's stoic gaze and fell silent, slowly rising to his feet and placing his bandy glass on the end table next to him. "Garith, it has indeed been an honor to meet you. If you will forgive me, the hour grows late, and I fear I am not as ..spire ..as I use to be. My bed calls to me." He held out his hand and shook the younger man's his old wise eyes examining the future of the Tremere for a moment before bowing to Dillon. "If you would be so kind Doctor, as to escort Mr. Monroe to dinner, perhaps you wouldn't mind showing him my collections of firearms before you go…"

Beau said goodnight once more and slowly left the room. Silence reigned between the two men for a moment as they looked at the vacant opening through which Clancy had vanished.

"I fear he doesn't have long to be with us." Dillon murmured softly meeting Gariths eyes. "No, my friend, what he has…no doctor can cure…" he continued answering the question before it was spoken.

He took out his time piece and glanced at it then looked back up at Garith as he pocketed it again. "He has a truly magnificent display of firearms. Its on the way to the dinning room. Shall we?"

Dillon turned and led the way. Down the hall past several closed doors he came to a wall, or apparent wall under the spiraling staircase that led up to the second floor of the mansion. Without hesitation he reached out and pushed a panel which released a latch that held the 'fake' wall in place.

The Tremere smiled as he pushed the wall back, revealing an opening. "It was used to hide run away slaves. The area below saved many lives over the years…" Dillon said as he motioned Garith to precede him. The walls were candle lit, hanging lanterns illuminating the small 3x4 room which housed a staircase leading further down into the bowels of the house.

The Tremere plucked up one of the lamps, holding it high so Gairth could see the way as he led them down the stairs.

At the foot of the stairway, he lowered the lamp meeting Clarence's eyes silently, noting the others that formed a semi circle in the shadows of the ritual room.

Dillon stood back motioning Gairth to proceed him, then moved in front of the stairs, blocking his way should he decide to try and leave the room.

"Welcome Garith Monroe. We have been waiting a long time for this moment." Clarence said softly as he stepped forward out of the shadows, the others following suit.
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Garith Monroe
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Garith was enjoying the conversation and the excellent brandy when Beau excused himself. Garith shook hands with the older man, amiably setting him at ease about his need for retiring.

Dillon's statement about Beau's imminent end caught him by surprise, as did the Doctor's answering his question before it was asked.

Following Dillon, he found the secret passage a fascinating aspect of the house, but as he neared the bottom of the stairs, he had the feeling someone was at its end. When Dillon stepped aside to allow him to enter the room, he instinctively looked to the shadowed areas.

His time in the military had taught him to trust his instincts even when his eyes and ears provided no clear answers. His suspicions were quickly confirmed as Clarence spoke, emerging from the shadows.

Garith's eyes strained against the faint light, aware of others although he heard no breathing. Brown eyes sought the one man he thought he truly knew, who now stood guard before the only exit known to him. Another question, several actually, formed in his eyes as he met Dillon's, and then his attention went to the freed man who had spoken.

"Waited a long time fo'ah what, S'uh?"

While he tried to maintain his amiable tone, there was uncertainty and defensiveness in it. Clarence moved forward to usher Garith further into the room as the black man, in his rich voice, began to explain.

'We are a part of a very select and exclusive group, Garith. And we have been monitoring you for some time and feel you could be a very great asset to our Clan. The choice IS yours. However, I must warn you, that refusal forces us to make sure you never leave this house alive.'

Clarence met Garith's gaze then turned to Dillon.

'Doctor Cloudhawk, would you care to explain a little more about us to your friend so he may make an informed decision?

Garith had not failed to notice the educated manner in which the black man spoke. At the mention of Dillon, Garith's attention shot to where he had last seen the Indian Doctor.'
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Dillon Cloudhawk
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Dillon moved forward, setting the lantern on the table before them before placing a reassuring hand on Garith's shoulder for a brief moment. Their eyes met, the Tremere understood the all to well the look in his old friends.

"You were marked when you were but a young boy, your father had already shown he would not live up to the potential, but you…even at the young age of seven you showed the potential worthy of the "Dark Gift"

He looked about the room, nodded to each member, and as they moved closer in so the southern businessman could see the diversity and feel the muted power of the room.

"We are an elite clan, powerful, diverse, and eternal. I was twenty seven when I was brought over; we met three years after that for the first time." He smiled, nodding slowly.

"Age is ….meaningless once you receive the Dark Gift. You are being invited into a world of unlimited possibilities. The future you spoke of so eloquently, you can see with your own eyes, you can influence with your own hands, and through the power of the clan itself."

Dillon looked over at Clarence, then back to Garith. "The Tremere are offering the "Dark Gift"….to become one of us…a vampire."

He held Gairth's eyes his face open for the first time, the truth of his words in his eyes. "It is your choice my friend. I can bring you over….or any of the men here can..." He nodded to those around the room "Or I can be your executioner."
There was a tension in the room that Garith was sure emanated solely from him. What he was hearing was completely foreign to everything he knew and had been brought up in. And when Dillon spoke of vampires, he might have been tempted to laugh, if it weren't for the look in his long time friend's eyes and the looks in the eyes of those around him.
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Garith Monroe
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He'd known Dillon for more then half his life! And now, the good Doctor, his long standing friend, a man he THOUGHT he could trust with his own life, was matter-of-factly speaking of being his executioner.

Everything around him disappeared except for the Indian Doctor he thought he knew as the brown eyes narrowed, studying Dillon hard as though for the first time.

Silent moments ticked by, perhaps unnoticed by the others, but each one felt by Garith until, in a hoarse, uncertain voice he finally broke the silence.

"You'ah serious, ahn't you? You would take my life. A Docto'ah? A man Ah hold in high rega'ahd? A man Ah have trusted fo'ah nea'ahly a qua'aht'ah of a century?? Why?"

Death was nothing foreign to him. As a young man, he had seen the ravages of disease as it spread, Providence sparing his immediate family while others suffered great loss. He had attended the funerals of slightly older neighbors who had severed in the Mexican-American War during Texas' fight for independence. And he had looked death in the face time and again during the War of Northern Aggression, each time finding grace in the eyes of a compassionate Providence.

Yet, now, as he stood in a shadowed room, his attention on Dillon Cloudhawk to the exclusion of the others present, he felt for the first time the cold, relentless fingers of death's shadow upon his very soul.......

In his darkest hour, when his faith and upbringing should have sustained him and made his choice clear, recent events that had turned him from that kind and just Providence conspired once more to lead him down a dark and dangerous path from which there could be no return........
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Dillon Cloudhawk
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"I Dillon Cloudhawk, hereby swear my everlasting loyalty to House and Clan Tremere and all its members. I am of their blood, and they are of mine. We share our lives, our goals, and our achievements. I shall obey those the House sees fit to name my superiors, and treat my inferiors with all the respect and care they earn for themselves."

The Tremere said softly, in partial response to Gairth's question. His dark eyes met his friend's without apology. "I am Tremere, Apprentice of the 3rd Circle of Mystery. Your trust has not been misplaced my friend….not if you join us.

Dillon's understood the disbelief, the confusion and even the fear he friend was experiencing. He too had faced such a life changing decision, one he never regretted.

"I will not deprive nor attempt to deprive any member of House and Clan Tremere of his magical power. To do so would be to act against the strength of our House. I will not slay nor attempt to slay any member of the House and Clan except in self-defense, or when a magus has been ruled outlaw by a properly constituted tribunal. If a magus has been ruled an outlaw, I shall bend all efforts to bring such magus to justice."

His eyes held Garith's as he repeated the code, the very code that Garith himself would take moments after his awakening into the dark world of the vampire mages. "It is a great gift Garith, few are ever offered such a chance, to live forever, to have the opportunity to change their world…to learn and experience things that are currently beyond your human comprehension."

Dillon fell silent as Clarence stepped closer to the prospective Tremere. "The good doctor speaks the truth Mr. Monroe. He has honored you by offering to be your executioner. Should you decide against the dark gift, he would see to it you died with honor and little pain." The black Regent smiled without humor, briefly and deliberately displaying his fangs. "Something I assure you none here would be willing to do."

The elder Tremere's eyes narrowed. "You are military raised, and understand the ranks and positions within. It is no different with us. Dillon is but a …foot solider..for now, while I his General. We are unique among all our brethren; for not only do we possess the Dark Gift of all Vampires, but magic's many envy us. Our strength is in the Clan and its unity, our power in our perpetual learning and our wisdom, in know when and how to apply both."

Clarence raised both hands signaling the discussion was at an end, the others moved into position for the ceremony. "Your choice Mr. Monroe….I will have it , now."
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Garith Monroe
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Garith visibly recoiled from Clarence as he flashed his fangs, as one might from a rattlesnake as it prepared to strike. He was wrestling with what he was hearing, trying to understand concepts that were completely foreign to him and for which, he was certain; he had far to little information.

He looked at the faces around him as his own reflected resignation. He had been privileged to be at Appamatox, but only now, in this very moment, did he begin to have a real inkling of what General Lee must have felt as he met with Grant. Finally, his gaze comes to rest on Clarence, his tone hollow as he replies.

“You speak of a choice when ya offah none. Ah am, obviously, at youah disposal, Suh”. Clarence barely inclined his head as he stepped back and Garith became
aware of another presence behind him.

Looking to his right, he saw Dillon among the others just before he felt something bite into his neck, the momentary painreplaced by a sense of calm mingled with pleasure..
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Dillon Cloudhawk
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The stoic expression of the Tremere doctor didn't change as he watched the one that had marked Gairth, sink his fangs deeply into the southerner's neck. It had begun. His friend would soon be a clansman, a 'brother' and it was with a strange joy that Dillon watched the proceedings.

The Tremere afforded his friend the pleasure of the embrace, filling him with sensations that would cancel out any hesitation or fear. Dark eyes watched Garith's faces as his eyes fluttered close. The embrace could be one of the most erotic pleasures a mortal could feel, or one of the most horrifying.

As one they moved forward lifting his almost lifeless body. Dillon touched his friends cold hand as his form was laid out on the long table before them. Then he stood back and watched as Clarence too the vial of blood that would bind Garith to the Clan for all eternity
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Garith Monroe
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He knew he would die some day but never expected it to be like this. He was only vaguely aware of his surroundings, of the vial of blood that was pressed between his lips, of the quiet command to drink as the blood trickled into his mouth and down his throat. Instinctively, he swallowed what he would later learn was blood ritually transmutated into the collective blood of the 7 Tremere elders.

At first, he felt nothing. All at once, pain like none he had experienced or imagined shot through him as organs that would now be useless gave way to death, shriveling and decaying at an accelerated pace. A cry of soul wrenching agony was ripped from the Southern gent in the throes of his transformation.

Thrashing about, he threw himself on the floor where he landed on his hands and knees, his body convulsing in pain as undeath claimed him, his flesh seeking to purge itself of the decayed remnants. He felt hands reaching for him, helping him to his feet and supporting him as he could not stand on his own.

On the table where he had been, a man now lies, his eyes wise and aged. Garith felt like he should know the man, but like his body, his mind was sluggish and uncooperative.

“You must feed. It will ease the pain and help you regain your strength.” The rich black voice seemed disembodied as it reached his ears. A knife appeared at the throat of the man and was drawn across a lesser vein.

The scent of fresh spilled blood repulsed him and enticed him until he could resist its allure no more. Without compulsion from those around him, he descended on the intended victim, drinking voraciously until the body was drained of the life
giving fluid.
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Dillon Cloudhawk
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Beau Clancy breathed his last, giving his life for the good of the Clan, it was his last act, which was honored by those that watched Garith feed. Dillon met Clarence's eyes the question in his stoic ones was answered with a small nod.
The typically stoic Tremere smiled briefly then looked back at Garith, the newest magus among them. For a while his friend would find his new world strange and foreboding, but in time he too would learn to manipulate it to meet his own needs.

"It is time." Dillon said quietly, placing a hand upon the southerner's shoulder, drawing his attention back to him. "Your learning begins now my friend, as does your future."

He steadied Gairth as he turned him to face the Regent, and bowed his head in acknowledgment of the power and authority the elder held within the clan.

Clarence captured the initiate’s eyes and proceeded to administer the Tremere code, a code Garith would learn by heart and use throughout his years.

"Repeat out loud after me, Magus Monroe, the Code of Honor which binds you to your house and clan. Remember it for all eternity." Clarence said then began..

"I Garith Monroe, hereby swear my everlasting loyalty to House and Clan Tremere and all its members…."

All there stood witness as Garith repeated the vows, his words growing stronger as his body did. "I recognize that the enemies of the House and Clan are my enemies, that the friends of the House and Clan are my friends, and that the allies of the House and Clan are my allies. Let us work as one and grow hale and strong."

With the last of the pledge ringing through the room, Dillon turned and faced his friend.

"Welcome to the Clan." He murmured softly
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Garith Monroe
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As he intoned the words of the pledge, he was filled with a curiosity as to just what this new life was that he had entered into. He had much to learn and it
would be many months before he would venture beyond the chantry property, running his businesses through written correspondence.

Meeting Dillons gaze, he regarded his friend for a long silent moment before his attention was claimed by the other chantry members introducing themselves.
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Dillon Cloudhawk
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Their relationship changed. It saddened Dillon, to know that the man he had met as a youthful 17 year old cadet, filled with honor and optimism for the future, now looked at him though guarded eyes.

The Tremere doctor understood, but couldn't help the twinge he felt at the loss. In time he hoped they would not only regain the trust and friendship they once had, but that it would be deeper and stronger.

Silently he entered the library, his eyes fell upon Garith, a small smile touched his lips as the southerner poured over one of the many text's available for his training.

"Good Evening Gairth." Dillon said softly walking across the room to the tray of bloodwyne that awaited any who wished to partake. He picked up the decanter and poured two glasses then turned and joined his friend, holding out a glass. "How are you?"

Garith looked up from the tome only when Dillon spoke. Nodding to the Doctor, he accepted the offered glass, setting it aside without drinking as he answered.
”Evenin Dillon. Well enough, Ah expect. And youah self?” His attention returned to the book before Dillon replied.

The trust he had placed in the Indian he thought he knew had been deeply shaken on a fateful night not so long ago. And while intellectually he was beginning to grasp the depth of the oath and his friends reason for what he did, there was still that shard of his humanity that felt betrayed by the man he thought he had known.

"Not as well as I would like I fear." Dillon replied without expression. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip, his eyes studying his friend, as he Considered his next actions.
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Garith Monroe
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Betrayal was an ugly word, yet he knew that Gairth still felt betrayed. In time the younger Tremere would learn there was all shades of betrayal, and within those,
was a truth that Dillon himself had learned.

Unfortunately it had to be learned, words alone would never truly satisfy. "I have heard from Isi." He continued his eyes now studying the bloodwyne contemplatively. "She is being sent further away, it is unlikely we will see each other for …decades."

Dillon looked up noting he finally had Garith's attention. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to interrupt your studies…" He waved his hand at the open book and set his glass down.

Perhaps curiosity could get the man he had known to open up. If not, there would be other things Dillon could do, including..wait. After all time was on his side.

"not as well as I would like I fear."

Garith glanced up, concern in his brown eyes, emotion something he had not mastered a mask for yet. But he looked quickly back down at the book as he made no reply, Dillon apparently having missed the look as he drank from his glass.

Shortly after his embrace, Dillon had finally mentioned Isi and it was then Garith finally asked about the woman, concerned lest she be compelled to face the decision that he still saw as being forced upon himself.

When Dillon explained that Isi had been embraced without choice by a member of a sect in opposition to them, which meant they were kept apart, Garith had expressed sincere remorse at the news.

Now as Dillon spoke of Isi being moved further away, he looked up at Dillon, attempting an expression of mild interest but more then that showing in his eyes.

"Ah'm truly sorry to hea'ah that. Ah know it will be ha'd on he'."

He hadn't meant it as a cutting remark toward Dillon, but he couldn't keep the dryness out of his voice. He knew how hard Isi had worked to gain Dillon's attention and interest, how once they had become interested in each other, he had tried to arrange ways for them to see each other in polite society, never dreaming of the reality of the life Dillon led that kept him away during the day.

He looked down at the book, then back at Dillon, habit causing him to expel an unnecessary breath.

"And ha'd on you as well....How is she?"
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Dillon Cloudhawk
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Tremere Primogen of Dallas
Admin
There was the Gairth he knew. Nothing in Dillon's expression changed, though a wave of relief swept through him. His delivering Gairth to his fait had indeed impacted their friendship, but not irrevocably.

In time he would explain that had it not been he, it would have been another, and he felt that since it was going to occur, Gairth would have preferred at least a face he knew, that to walk into his new life totally alone.

"Harder than you know." Dillon responded dryly in return. "I was able to see her for a few hours. Most of that time was spent between tears and anger. On her part…not mine." He inserted with a tiny twinkle of amusement in his dark eyes.


A long heart felt sigh was forced through long dead lungs as he sat back, and stared almost sightlessly at Gairth. "The walls have ears my friend. So many ears…" The words flew across the air between them carried on but a 'breaths' whisper so low that the younger Tremere could have been forgiven for wondering if they had been utter from Dillon's unmoving lips.

"I .." He shrugged, unuse to expression 'feelings to any, including his friend. For the sake of salvaging a relationship that meant something to him, Dillon was willing to try. "I ache, to know she will be so far away. That our time together can be counted in mere seconds compared to the decades we will never be together. " His half smile didn't reach his lips as he reached out for his wyne.

"Perhaps the future will bring changes that will allow what our souls desire…"
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Garith Monroe
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Regent-Ft. Worth Chantry
Leadership
Garith nodded slowly, his mind on the young woman who he had played chaperone for as a young cadet and with whom he had maintained a friendship, having never known of Isi's embrace until after his own.

"Change does not come easy. No'ah is it readily accepted."

He was speaking as much of his own recent change as the potential for change in the future that might allow Isi and Dillon to at last be together as a husband and wife should. Looking down at the book, he shrugged a bit, then looked back over at Dillon, open curiousity in his eyes.

"Does marriage fo'ah vampi'ahs mean the same as it did befor'ah? Do they....do....we...hold to monogamy? Remain faithful fo'ah the duration of ou'ah existence? O'ah does it matt'ah anymo'ah?"

He was still struggling with what he was...with the concept of vampires as more then some mythical creature. And it showed in the way he said the word...and in his hesitation to use the word "we" when speaking of them.
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