"This wasn't your fault, Jacob," Liam said with a shake of his head. "Ambrose did this. Carver did this. And now Noonian. But you aren't responsible for this."

"All of us sought to support the Masquerade, but this isn't the Masquerade any longer. What's done is done. There's no changing it. What's important is what we do now."

"Yes, but do you know why they chose Verdant Falls for their little experiment in necrofascism?" Jacob replied. "Because it was my city. Because I've spent my entire tenure in the Camarilla's upper echelons flouting their traditions and taunting my brother with its success. And when things began to go sideways at the hands of the Third Tribe, Ambrose saw an opportunity and called upon his most ambitious and least scrupulous ally to help him."

At Liam's second point, he sighed, and rested his head on the passenger door. "You're right about that. The Masquerade was drafted for a world that no longer exists. Knowing all we know now, it all seems so antiquated. I have never much cared for the divine birthright of leadership we have ascribed to the antediluvians, but their slowness to adapt to such a rapidly changing world is the folly that birthed this damn Fugue."

"Jacob if it hadn't happened here, it would have happened somewhere else. And all things told its probably for the best that it was Verdant Falls. Because you fought back. One way or another this was going to happen, and another Prince in another city might have just rolled over and let them in. We would have never known it was happening until it was too late to do anything about it."

The traffic in Bangor was light, given the crisis the world found itself in. They were about 20 minutes away from the bridge. Their Canadian license plates drew a few suspicious glares from the locals, but nothing in the way of serious attention.

Jacob chuckled a little. "You always know the right thing to say," he said. "I don't doubt I would have known you were something special... you know, even if you hadn't first come to me as a time traveler from the distant future."

Liam's phone chirped. Jacob looked at the screen. "There's a small island on the only bridge leading to Bar Harbor," he said. "We're to pull over at the information center and await contact."

There was a momentary silence as they drove. Then Jacob spoke again. "Have you ever given any thought to leadership? The city is going to need someone to run it when this is all over, and I think my hands are far too stained now."

Liam grinned. "You forget, Jacob. I was the first Prince of Verdant Falls. Fully half of my vassals tried to murder the other half before all succumbing to torpor. Those were heady nights."

"If we do things right though there wont be a Prince," he said, turning abruptly serious. "The title is a vestige of the Masquerade, and should be tossed out along with the rest of it. What the city needs is a mayor, and it has one. Once the mask slips we don't get to keep a shadow government anymore. But there may be room for an office in the real one. For better or for worse we have to step out into the light."

"But yes. I've thought about it," Liam smiled again. "And I'm not going anywhere. I intend to see this through, and if that means taking the reins for a time then I will."

Jacob chuckled. "I had forgotten," he said. "And I didn't mean a prince. But the Kindred who wish to live in peace in the city are going to need a united front. As much as they'll need someone who can speak to the mortals for all of us. Someone the mortals can trust. I'm sure Ms. Rowe will be quick to tell you that  it can't be me. And she'd be right."

Liam nodded. "I'd been thinking about sitting down with Pockets to record an interview - the story of my life and death. All of the bad and all of the good. The human. Presuming we succeed the airwaves are going to be awfully confused those first few weeks while the rest of the world catches up to what Verdant Falls already knows. We get one shot to help shape the narrative - to help the world understand what we are and perhaps just as importantly what we aren't. To let them know that some of us are fighting for them. And some of us just want to be left alone."

"If I had my way it would go live everywhere the night we crack the waterworks. All of Verdant Falls already knows who I am anyway. I don't get to live anonymously again, so I may as well do something useful with the notoriety."

"I have no doubt Pockets could make that happen," he replied. "She already has an override installed for the local network affiliate stations - a trump card that gets less and less relevant with each passing year. But from what I gather her ability to get information out on the Internets is far more comprehensive."

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said decidedly.

“What about you, Jacob? Have you given any thought towards what comes after?”

"Retirement," Jacob said with a smirk. "Hasan and I have talked a lot about returning to the seas after this is all over. Maybe revisit the parts of the world we saw when that was our calling, and see how they've changed. I'll need to steal my boat back first, of course."

They were on the far outskirts of Bangor now. Just a short ride over a bridge to the rendezvous.

"I'd say you earned it, but you probably earned it several lifetimes ago," Liam replied. "Retirement is a curious thing for an immortal. You have all the time in the world, or at least the part of it the sun doesn't shine upon."

"It's really all I ever wanted," Jacob replied. "Verdant Falls was a compromise that allowed Hasan and I to live our lives unbothered by our respective masters. Of course, you know how well that turned out. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure he and I will get into plenty of trouble in our dotage. I'm looking forward to being the one sticking their nose in where it doesn't belong."

The tiny Thompson island was little more than a visitor's centre and a scenic overlook - both of which appeared to be closed. The bridge on the other side appeared to be closed for business as well, judging by the police cars blocking the road. A Sheriff's deputy was the only other person in the visitor's centre lot. He was leaning against the hood of his car, as if waiting for them. He stood up straight as they pulled in.

"Must be our contact," Jacob commented.

The masked deputy strode over to the car as they parked, and signalled for Liam to roll down the window. As he complied, the deputy spoke.

"Evening, gentlemen," he said. "Can I ask what brings you to Bar Harbor tonight?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:40, Mon 04 Jan 2021.

Liam nodded politely at the deputy and left his arms in plain view. "Family matters," he replied with a hint of a smile. "Hector Cortez asked me to come. My name is Liam O'Farrell."

"Ah, glad to meetcha," the deputy said. He peered at Jacob in the passenger seat. "I just gotta ask you if you have any ghouls traveling with ya. Control measures, and all that."

"Nobody here but the dead," Jacob chimed in.

"Right, then," said the deputy. "If you'll follow me, I'll take ya to the compound."

With that, the deputy was off to his cruiser. With him at the lead, there were no issues going through the roadblock.

"Compound," Jacob mused. "I wonder what we're heading into."

The drive was a short one - at least compared to the distance they'd already traveled. It quickly became apparent that they weren't headed towards the town proper. As soon as they were able, the deputy took them off the main highway and into the back roads. It was a dark and lonely drive through wooded areas with only occasional signs of habitation. Finally, the deputy left them at a right turn down a gravel driveway wide enough to fit a truck through.

A sign at the mouth of the driveway read:
PRIVATE ROAD - NO ADMITTANCE
PROPERTY OF THE BAR HARBOR MINUTEMEN MILITIA
TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT

The treeline broke quickly, revealing a large clearing with a sprawling compound hunkered on the hilltop ahead, complete with guard towers. They were expected, and so the gate ahead lay open. Liam could sense many eyes on him, and not just from the watchtowers.

"You know, in a lot of ways this is a very different country to our own," said Jacob.

Cortez himself was there at the gate to direct them into a parking spot. When the vehicle was stopped and its passengers disembarked, he approached and held out a hand in greeting.

"Good to see you again, Mr. O'Farrell," he said. He glanced at Jacob, but said nothing.

Men and women hung out of every door, and leaned over the parapet guard rails. They gawked at Liam and whispered among themselves.

"Its more like a thousand different countries, each peering warily out at the next one from behind a concrete wall," Liam said as he climbed out of the car. He smiled as Hector approached and held out his hand.

"Liam is fine. Its good to see you again, too." He followed Hector's glance and gestured towards Jacob, though he was certain no introductions were necessary.

"Jacob Holloway, meet Hector Cortez. I asked Jacob to accompany me. I hope that wasn't too presumptuous. There have been some... developments since you left, and I was glad of the company."

"He is your guest and will be afforded that respect," Hector replied tersely. "As for those developments, let's save the updates for the meeting. Please follow me, gentlemen."

Hector led them to the large main building in the centre of the compound. There were no men at the doors, but the lobby looked like the entrance to a prison. Armed guards waited behind bulletproof glass, and buzzed them through a steel security gate. As the group passed, they spoke quietly to each other. Hector led them to a well-appointed conference room on the main floor, where others awaited them.

Liam immediately recognized Luc Beaumont, the erstwhile anarch leader of the old Verdant Falls. And of course, Ramon Flores, leader of their clan and the former Justicar to the Camarilla. A third Gangrel was in the room, but he was not someone Liam recognized.

"I am assuming you all know Liam O'Farrell," Hector said. "And he's brought Prince Jacob Holloway with him."

"Former Prince," Jacob corrected him.

"Jacob has been leading the resistance efforts in Verdant Falls for the last decade," Luc said. "If it weren't for him, this Fugue would be a global problem. I will vouch for him." Jacob nodded gratefully

"You both know Luc and our esteemed leader," Hector continued. "And over there is Elijah Freeman, our head of tactical operations."

"Please sit, Mr. O'Farrell," Flores said. "And illuminate to us the current situation in Verdant Falls."

"Hello, Luc." Liam also nodded at Luc, both in recognition and appreciation. "Mister Freeman," he said, turning his attention towards the unfamiliar Gangrel. Finally his gaze turned towards Flores.

"Mister Flores. Thank you for inviting us," he said as he took one of the available seats. "I'll tell what I can, and Jacob can fill in the details that I miss. After their initial progress the Tremere sought to duplicate their success across the Atlantic and I've spent the better part of the last decade stamping out facilities as they've popped up while Jacob has been here fighting."

Liam began at the beginning, but in brief. Ten years was a lot to summarise in short order, but it was the actions of Carver and Keisinger a decade ago that had set present events in motion. Without context there were just pieces scattered across a game board with no knowledge of how they had come to be there or where they were going. So long as his audience seemed attentive, he persevered. Liam knew how to read a room and he picked up the pace or drilled down on details where it seemed there was a need.

"A couple of years ago Redwatch started forcibly subjugating Kindred to support their thinning ranks. Gangrel were vitally important. They make up the bulk of their scouts. Thanks in large part to Jacob and the other holdouts, most of the soldiers you might encounter in Verdant Falls these nights are fresh out of the ground. The bluebloods are scared to leave the Alhambra except under heavy guard."

"All the same we were fighting a losing battle until 2020 when it became clear that the novel corona virus somehow inhibited the Fugue. Suddenly the pressure for expansion from the top abated. The Camarilla could not risk rolling out the Fugue in other urban centres where the spread of the virus could breach the Masquerade. Verdant Falls remains firmly under their thumb though and they've been forced to invest their efforts in trying to perfect their serum. Its given us a reprieve, but there's no knowing for how long."

"Meanwhile, we've enjoyed both a major breakthrough and some significant setbacks. One of our allies, a Witch, has devised an antidote and is working to disseminate the recipe widely." Liam held up his spray bottle, seemingly banal and mundane but truthfully vitally important. "A few droplets from this is all it takes. This is how I broke Hector free, and the other yellowbands we've been able to identify. Its portable, easy to fabricate (at least by those with knowledge of such things), and retains its properties in mist or water."

"If we could get a drum of the antidote into the city's water supply the game would be over. Of course the Tremere have planned for saboteurs and the waterworks are more heavily guarded than the Alhambra."

Liam sat back in his chair and allowed his gaze to wander from face to face.

"I mentioned we'd also endured a significant setback. The Tremere are getting desperate and have turned to knowledge even they themselves once considered verboten. van Fokke has rediscovered a curse from the days of Tremere himself, one Tremere had sought to suppress. I'm by no means a thaumaturge but as its been explained to me, the curse binds a Kindred's essence - separates them from that thing which makes them a Vampire. And its extremely effective."

Liam looked at Jacob. "A few nights ago I ran afoul of one of van Fokke's witchhunter's and I was bound. That's why I came by vehicle with Jacob. I'm stuck - a prisoner in my own body. I can't fly. I can't transform. I can't close my wounds. I barely feel hunger. I just exist."

"And I'm not alone. I was not the first of us to be bound, and I fear I wont be the last. There is hope though. The Tremere that did this can release the curse at any time - and we caught the bastard that did it to me. He's being worked on presently. Painfully, I expect. But for anyone else it will require the assistance of a skilled thaumaturge to break."

"We are... working on that as well."

The others were quiet and attentive as Liam laid out his story. News of the binding curse elicited careful glances at one another, but no one interrupted. When he was finished, Flores was the one to break the silence.

"First, let me commend you both on your bravery and dedication to keeping the Camarilla from enacting this terrible blight upon the world. As you well know, their dedication to its development was the primary motivating factor behind our decision to leave the Camarilla. It gives me great pleasure to know that their efforts are at a standstill."

"The purpose of your visit, however, has more to do with how they've subjugated members of our kind. The major factions are all aware of the Camarilla's Fugue project, and unfortunately all this has spurred from them is a sense of resentment for not arriving there first. I understand that some of the bloodlines have already begun work trying to replicate their successes."

"Applying it to other Kindred, enslaving them, and forcing them to breed offspring, however, is a transgression that may spur them into action. It's a violation of unspoken and spoken agreements that are far older than the Convention of Thorns. It has spurred us into action. We intend to march on Verdant Falls in force, both to demand the surrender of our people and control over the fates of the abominations they have created. We do not expect them to comply. Which is why we will also be launching a covert strike on their aerie while they are distracted by our show of force."

"We will require help. We need to get across the border, arm ourselves once there. We also need to know where to hide in the city. In return for this assistance, we offer something we know you want. Control over the skies."

Jacob opened his mouth to speak, but looked at Liam instead. This was his rodeo.

Liam nodded. "I desperately want control of the skies," he agreed. "But I'm also adamant that we contain the conflict as much as we can. I'm looking to the next fight as well. If we turn Verdant Falls into Stalingrad or Baghdad, we may well win the battle but we will lose the war - not against the Tremere perhaps but the one that follows; the one for our survival."

"The Masquerade is in its dying nights, and how we comport ourselves now will either haunt us or reward us in the nights to follow. If the kine cannot see us as somehow different from the Camarilla, then all of us will pay a collective price for their atrocities. And they will have a very different calculus when it comes to acceptable collateral damage."

"As to your specific requirements the border is still reasonably porous despite the pandemic, but moving large numbers of people will draw attention if we take the roads. I presume you're not talking about those of your enclave that can fly for which borders are immaterial. For the others it may make sense to explore a maritime route. Ships dock in Verdant Falls and port cities up and down the St. Lawrence every day. A few more sailors disembarking would barely raise an eye."

"As for arms I have well connected friends and I'm confident they can deliver so long as you have deep pockets. I can get us a good price but I can't magic up guns for free. Its not like America," Liam said with a smile.

"Hiding in the city is trickier. The Camarilla own every inch of it apart from the docks. I've learned from experience unfortunately that nowhere is safe. The fate of the Garou warband that previously threatened them is informative. The Camarilla armed every capable man, woman and child with silver bullets and sent them into the threshing machine to kill and die en mass. When they were done they scorched the ground and salted the earth. If they have even an inkling that you've established a foothold within their domain they will not hesitate to do the same by light of day when only your ghouls can protect you."

Luc threw up his hands and looked at Flores. "I told you brinksmanship wasn't an option," he said. "Telling them that we know what they're up to will only lead to a more organized defense, and a bloody conflict we can't possibly win. We should steal in with a small team and strike while they don't even know we're aware. Bomb their breeding grounds, and pick the stragglers out of the sky one by one, under cover of night."

"I'm afraid I must agree with Mr. Beaumont and Mr. O'Farrell," Jacob replied. "Keisinger and van Fokke are not Kindred of their word. They may even agree to your demands just to give them an opportunity to hit you from behind. Insurgent tactics are the only reason our resistance has survived as long as it has."

Flores shook his head slowly, and replied in a placid monotone. "If we want the other clans to take notice, we must make an attempt at diplomacy. These are our ways."

Luc rubbed his temples. This was clearly an old argument.

"Luc isn't wrong. If the goal is to recapture our people and destroy the rookery we would be best served by doing so directly and without tipping our hand."

"But if the goal is to rouse the ire of the other clans, then make the attempt," Liam said, leaning back in his chair. "But don't do it from a stronghold within the city where they can root you out. van Fokke wont receive you anywhere outside of the Alhambra anyway, and you don't want to parlay with him on his terms or you'll end up like me. He may however send one or more of his witchhunters as delegates, and they will open a channel to him. I've seen it twice now."

"You're expecting to be refused so let him refuse you, but do so from the safety of somewhere beyond his reach. And should he agree, as Jacob suggests, then the only terms you will accept are the immediate and total release of all Gangrel in the city directly into your custody. Further, you will not be receiving them in the city, van Fokke can arrange for them to come to you in a place of your choosing."

"Otherwise, be prepared to blow up the rookery that night."

"Montréal is a Sabbat stronghold," said Elijah. "If he doesn't have at least one Witch-Hunter stationed there already, I'd be genuinely surprised. It should be neutral enough ground for a safe meeting. And you're right. We should be assaulting the rookery that same night."

"I will invite Ms. Grimaldi to host," Flores said. "She has no great love for the Tremere, and has been eager to woo our clan into her fold. It would be in her best interests to guarantee my safety. Her bearing witness to our confrontation will save us the trouble of entreating her afterward. She would have been my first stop anyway."

Montréal was on Liam's route to Kirkland Lake. Reaching out to Chianna would be a simple matter, especially considering their warm rapport.

"I can reach out to her if you like," Liam offered. "Chianna and I have always gotten on well, and its probably safer for me in Montreal than it is in Verdant Falls for now to be honest. At least until the curse is broken."

"That would be appreciated," Flores said.

"I think, given we're moving a strike team and not a procession, the most prudent course of action would be to smuggle them and their gear into the country directly. We have a smuggler who would be more than happy to bring you to Halifax. Especially if it means hurting the Camarilla."

"It sounds like we have a concensus," Flores said. "Unless anyone has anything else to add?"

Liam shook his head. "No, I think that just about does it," he said.