An aside from the horrors of Rot Under Paris, this short story is an attempt to provide some interesting foreshadowing an intrigue as to what may be going on behind different doors
Fury Without Equal
An extract from a series of texts from one “Alexandre Allard” to “Mustafa Rahman”
You were right Mustafa, this guard duty really is easy. Three nights and I haven’t seen shit. Tell the boss next time you see him that these Anarchs aren’t going to even try and take this stuff. I’ve seen em around and they’re scared as hell man haha.
Uuuuurgh so bored, heard some noises but it was just a rat or something. In other news Gasparde got hungry and went for a snack hehe, he’ll be gone for a while knowing his “proclivities”. Just hope the poor sod he chooses doesn’t die in the process.
He’s still not back! What is he up to LMAO? Wait hang on, someone’s outside, BRB.
SHIT. MOTHERFUCKER HAS A SWORD WTF. I bolted the door and threw a couple wards up but I don’t know how long I have. Call backup, call anyone just hurry the fuck up man.
God dammit he’s gotten in, Gasparde forgot to lock the back door, I’m going to kill him next time I see him.
Dude, he’s going off about “judgement” and “vengeance” and stuff, what the hell is this dude’s problem?!
Fuck fuck fuck he broke the wards like they were paper, I can hear him moving downstairs. I’m scared man, he means business.
HELP ME, HE’S HERE. I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN RUN FAST ENOUGH. HE CAN SEE ME EVERYWHERE.
I can’t run, at least I’ll die fighting. Promise me I won’t go down forgotten Mustafa. Fury has come to Paris, bearing a sword and the sight of wrath.
God help us all.
The figure stood by the door of the shining champagne room. The tacky glitter of the walls was doing nothing to improve her mood.
“The hell is going on around here Jacques?! I come back after all these years and the Anarchs are in disarray! We have no presence in Paris, we are under siege in Versailles and we have the mother of all killers in the area!”
The figure sitting on the leather couch growled. His face a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
“Listen Miss Foccart, I wasn’t around when you were here last but things have changed. The Camarilla has entrenched themselves in the society of today, it ain’t the fucking revolutions anymore. We’re a dying breed, bunch of the young kids feel it’s safer to roll over for the Camarilla rather than getting shot down trying to resist them! And now from what I’ve heard we’re dealing with Lasombra! Sabbat! Fucking SI is even here from what I’ve heard down in the sewers.”
“Jacques I get it, times are tough. But we’re tougher, we have legacy here, we can’t just let this happen. I’m staking my claim to Baron of Paris, and I hope you will be one of my first advocates.”
“Marguerite, you’ve picked the worst time, at least let’s wait until we’ve repelled the Tremere attacks out here and then we can think about Paris.”
“Shut it Jacques, your inaction has lead us here, I’m leading us out. Tomorrow night your club’s going to be empty, and every Anarch in the region is going to be on the floor; it’s time we raised some spirits, gather the coteries, and march to war.”
“Please Marguerite, the Butcher is out there, I can’t risk gathering our people in one place, it would just be a massacre!”
“If he comes I’ll deal with him, I reckon I could take him. He managed to slaughter us in Magdeburg but I reckon he’s gone soft and trust me, I’m still as sharp as ever.”
“Enough of business my dear, how is LA?”
She scowled for a second at that.
“Fine thank you Jacques, in chaos as normal. SI’s hit the place hard and most of the barons are fighting amongst eachother. Vannevar Thomas has even laid praxis to the city so that’s something. Jeremy’s gone though, has been for a while. So now I’m back home, to be greeted by this mess…
Anyway, I need to make a few calls, pull a few strings, assemble a war council you know how it is. An Jacques?”
“You’re gonna be next to me on the front lines so you better get prepared”
This time it was the seated figure’s turn to scowl.
“Whatever. Now get out of my club before I have to ask Bruce to… Nevermind.”
Cover art by Robert Frank