Following up on the address he was given, he came to a fenced-in building with "Do not enter." plainly placed at the gated entrance. The gae was ten feet tall with razor wire at the top and the entire fence was made of some kind of black metal. Further, Hank could plainly see the conductors for an electric fence present.

 Fortunately, he had a key.

 Inside the gate was a plain-looking brick building. The sign above the door read "Private Property. Do not enter. Violators will be shot."

 There were a pair of turrets above the door.

Raising an eyebrow at the signs, Hrafen entered the compound. He knew better than acting strangely around such automated defenses, so he approached the plain-looking brick building.

Waving a hand at the turrets, he assumed they had some sort of surveillance system set up. If he saw no response, he would attempt to knock on the door.

 The turrets did not respond when Hank approached. However, when he knocked, a female voice popped up over the speakers. "Hello, key-bearer. How may I assist you?"

Replying, Hrafen was feeling odd with the speaker-speech, but he went with it,

"I am here on invitation." he said simply, figuring that would be enough.

 There was a pause. "...And?"

"...and was told nothing more than to come here to assist. I am here to render aid." he said flatly, unsure as to what else the disembodied voice wanted from him.

 "Very well."

 The voice stopped speaking but there was no click or opening of the door. It remained shut (though he still did have the key).

Stepping forward, now that he was confident that he would not be blasted into the sky, he reached out with the key to attempt to open the door, confident, but cautious.

 There was the soft click of the  door unlocking and it swung open easily without a sound and closed just as gently when you stepped through. Inside was a warehouse filled with boxes. The boxes were labelled by their scientific names. Most Hank did not know, but a few he did. The he did know were of chemicals. The entire warehouse smelled of chemicals and blood. He saw machines filling vats with various liquids and powders, stirring them, and placing them in closed vats.

 As they moved from one vat to another, the colors changed from clear to that very familiar red color. No one was here. This entire place was automated.

Speaking aloud, hoping the disembodied voice would respond, Hrafen had some questions,

"The entire facility is automated. Is there a way to link the alarm systems to myself?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, "I would like to be the first to respond if anything goes awry, or if the turrets are activated, so that I may respond, and keep tabs on the facilities." he said, truly not wanting anything terrible to befall the facilities.

If he received a response, he asked another question,

"For those of us who wish for a supply of our own, what is the process for applying for one? I would assume it isn't simply to take anything, as that would screw up the numbers. Is there an application process, or is there simply an alternate location?" he was hoping for some understanding of the entire system, basically, so he could protect it.

Whether he was working with Reginald or not, Hrafen felt that the artificial vitae was one of the best advancements of the Kindred to ever come forth. It deserved protection, whether for the Camarilla OR the Sabbat.

 The female voice popped up on one of the overhead speakers (but not all of them, only the one closest to him and the speaker being used would change as he moved so that it was always using the closest one).

 "Yes. If you give me your phone number, I could call you if there is a disturbance at this facility."

 When asked about the supply, the voice responded. "The blood created at this facility is distributed to blood banks throughout the city. While the packages themselves have a shelf life of three years, they are marked with a 'use by' date 60 days after production. The blood discarded as 'medical waste' then becomes available for purchase for vampires such as yourselves."

 You do not recall mentioning that you were a vampire.

Nodding, Hrafen spoke his phone number aloud, and responded about the final words,

"Thank you. That seems fair to me. Is the blood available for all Kindred, regardless of allegiances?" he asked, glancing up as if the voice were looking at him.

 "I am not concerned with your politics. My job is to create artificial blood both to save the lives of humans and to sustain the vampire population, allowing them to separate themselves from the need to feed upon humans."

"Understood. The politics of this city do not interest me either, so in that: we are aligned." he let that sink in a moment.

"If you need supplies refilled, or anything to keep this operation working: do not hesitate to call. I will be close." he said flatly, taking his responsibility seriously for all of the Kindred in the city, and the humans he would be indirectly saving.