Studere Ossa

[jono]

A leather-bound journal, made in the classical styles, with thick parchment. The ink is handmade, using ingredients from medieval Italy.

All notes from this point are in Latin.

"Thus begins my studies of the Path of Bones. I study under the guidance of Chalice, and through his wisdom, the truth shall be revealed to me."

The first entry:

January 24th to the 30th,

I stalked the District looking for an appropriate subject until I found a young male, approximately 20 years of age. He appeared to have slept in this same location for multiple days, possibly due to the wet cough and fever. An alternate cause for his lethargy could be the use of injected drugs as evidenced by the needle marks along both arms.

The subject's aura reveals that he is human, but that his body is weak, likely to expire unless his illnesses are treated and his drug use ended. The scent of blood in his cough indicates that the infection in his lungs is serious. In one corner of his make shift shelter, he hides several more doses of his drugs.

He does not die the first night.

The second night he is close to death, but a second man arrives and provides him with a medication that eases the cough. The contact with another human seems to bolster the subject's life force, making his aura stronger.

The third night his aura remains steady, but on the fourth it begins to flicker again as his cough returns more strongly.

On the fifth night, the subject is obviously in the throes of his drug when I arrive, but as I watch, he administers another dose. I let my senses become even more attuned to his experiences, and watch as his pulse weakens. I see the blood struggling to flow through his veins, and listen as his heart beat slows, becomes weaker. This moment is when he could be saved, taken to the nearby hospital and restored. They could strengthen his pulse and heartbeat. They could flush the unwholesome drugs from his system. But they cannot do these things unless he is
brought to them.

As his heartbeat stutters to a stop, I  open my eyes to the realm of the dead, and look to see if he has made a  shade this night. If he did, it did not coalesce immediately.

With his heart no longer beating, his aura slowly fades into nothingness. His body loses its heat, and the now dead muscles slowly begin to stiffen. After a time, he is simply another object in the alleyway.

-RG

[jono]

Continued in the next entry in the journal. Again, all notes are in Latin.

Beginning on February the 4th, On Going.

I requested that my assistant find a poorly maintained facility for the terminal and impoverished. This region made such things difficult, with their robust redistribution of wealth. I find that all this does is lift the lowest up a few pegs so that they do not drown in their poverty, but instead languish in it for far too long. That is neither here nor there.

Eventually, Selena found me a hospice. It is run by a woman and her son, and they house the bodies of several patients dying of varying cancers. Mistress Greenly accepts the bribe my young cousin provides to her, and she allows me access to the room with the dying boy in it. I leave Micah with the woman so that he can distract her, if it is required. Selena, the lovely dead girl, leads me directly to the bedside of the boy.

I took precautions to cover my face, a “medical mask” and a thin, gauzy veil. I will not breach the Camarilla’s Masquerade. My hands are covered in gloves. The young cousins assure me that they cannot perceive my appearance. They know they would be punished if I catch them in a lie that large.

It doesn’t matter, for this boy though. His cancer has attacked his brain itself, and he can no longer see, due to the tumors pressing against his eyes and other portions of his brain. A skilled surgeon has cut holes to relieve some of that pressure, much like I would have done 600 years ago. Some skills have not changed.

The boy is willing to speak. I am his first visitor in months. I tell him that I am studying the experiences of terminal patients, and he accepts that, perhaps assuming I am a researcher at the University. I am amused by his easy acceptance.

I have a list of prepared questions:

Jordan Hagurdson, 15 years old, tumors of the brain.

1. At what point did you accept that your death was inevitable? – “The day my doctors pulled my mother aside and asked her if they should continue treating my cancers, or if they should just make me comfortable. They didn’t think I could hear. It only took her a moment to decide. She told them to just make it as easy as possible for me. She hasn’t come to see me since she moved me to this hospice. Sometimes I think that I should keep living just to spite her.”

a. Note – Selena shook her head at this, and signaled that the boy has less than one week to live.

2. How has the pain progressed? – “At first, it was horrific. My head felt like it would burst, but when they made the holes in my head, it got better… and when they stopped caring about how much pain meds they give me, it got much better. Now, I don’t really hurt at all.”

3. Does the darkness bother you? – “It did, for a while… but now, it’s just getting me ready. Soon it will all be dark, eh?”

a. The child grins at this point.

4. Was the treatment worth it? Knowing now how it would be, if you could make the decision again, would you accept treatment, or would you simply wish to die? – “I would take the treatment. It might work another time. You’ve got to have hope.”

5. Do you believe in an afterlife? – “I’m pretty sure that I’m gonna go to Hell. I mean, I wasn’t a good kid. I did a lot, and the preachers on the radio say people like me go to Hell. I won’t get into their Heaven… and I don’t really believe in ghosts. Maybe there’s nothing there afterward. Maybe it’s just darkness. Endless and empty.”

a. His voice trailed off and he was unresponsive for an hour. I left his bedside and recovered Micah from Mistress Greenly. He is working on turning her into a further contact. I approve.

February 7th,


I have had a hound purchased for me. It is a female mastiff puppy. I put a collar on her myself, and name her Agata. When I was a boy, I had a Mastiff named Agata. I rode her like some would a pony. She slept in my chambers, and grew alongside me. Agata the first eventually sailed with me on my ship. She died in a storm.

Agata the second has the look of her predecessor, but I doubt they share any significant relation.

Tonight, we work on where she is allowed to make a mess. Training the puppy is oddly similar to training a neonate or a ghoul.


February 10th, the same Hospice

- Note – The previous specimen has since died. His bed has been filled by a different patient; this one looks far too healthy to be here.

Micah again distracts Mistress Greenly, and Selena leads me deeper into the Hospice. Again, I am covered and secure from revealing too much of myself. The patient is old, and covered in pussy, bloody bandages, which obviously should have been changed days ago. Her paperwork lists her name as “Jane Brooks,” but she only answers to Coyote. She had survived a fire in her “mobile home,” but her insurance is unwilling to pay for the treatments she would need to regain her health fully. Their notes in her file indicate that due to her age, her smoking habits, and her other chronic conditions, providing treatment would provide a negligible return to health, and is not cost effective. They have approved Hospice care and treatments that will help her symptoms. Selena indicates that the woman has less than one month to live.

Coyote, 83 years old, female, complications from severe burns – All answers are given in a slow rasp.

1. At what point did you accept that your death was inevitable? – “I ain’t dead yet. Ain’t nothing inevitable.”

2. How has the pain progressed? – “In the fire, the pain was beyond anything I’ve ever felt before… but when he carried me out, Raven took the pain away.”

a. Note – Specimen believes in a variation of the Native American theology. Additional note, her charts indicate severe nerve damage, and accompanying loss of sensation.

3. Does the darkness bother you? – “The darkness waits for me. Father Raven waits in it, playing the best trick of all on me. I will go out into that darkness, and into his arms.”

4. Was the treatment worth it? Knowing now how it would be, if you could make the decision again, would you accept treatment, or would you simply wish to die? – “I will accept death when that time comes, but I’m never gonna run to it.”

5. Do you believe in an afterlife? – “Oh yes. Soon, I’m gonna be with my grandma and her people. I’ll get to fish on eternal rivers and speak with the Whale-cousins. Soon.”

- Note – I observed this specimen repeatedly, watching as she degraded. She smiled as she died.

February 11th,

Agata barks during the day. Today, she barked loudly enough to wake me from my rest. The young cousins feared to discipline her, as they should. She is their equal at this point and they do not have the right to discipline her.

I took her into my own chamber, and allowed her to sleep at the foot of my bed.


February 15th, the same Hospice

Micah has begun sleeping with Mistress Greenly. She is old, but the worst case scenario is she might have to be dealt with. He still provides her a bribe to allow me unobserved access to her patients.

This time, we visit a man. His condition is undefined, other than age. His wife died on the 1st, and he has not walked since that day. He has not willingly spoken either. I am forced to use the gifts of the blood to coerce answers from him, but once he is speaking, they flow freely.

James Winters, 77, male, dying of a broken heart

1. At what point did you accept that your death was inevitable? – “When Syl died. I watched them roll her body out of our house, and I knew that I was done.”

2. How has the pain progressed? – “The moment I saw her lying there, still as stone, I knew it. I felt it when I came into the house… you feel when half of your heart dies. My soul hurts. My bones hurt. Every bit of me hurts. I don’t care about the bedsores or the needle bruises… because Syl is dead, and I’m on my way to join her.”

3. Does the darkness bother you? – “In the dark, I forget. I think that if I roll over, she’ll be there. I almost smell her still. I can hear her voice. In the dark, I don’t hurt as much. When they turn on the lights, though… then I know where I am. I know what is happening. I know that Syl is dead, and nothing will bring her back.”

4. Was the treatment worth it? Knowing now how it would be, if you could make the decision again, would you accept treatment, or would you simply wish to die? – Does not apply to this specimen.

5. Do you believe in an afterlife? – “Syl always said she was going to go to Heaven, and that she’d hold the gate open for me. So I’ve got to get there quick.

Note – I opened my eyes to see the dead, and there, I saw his wife. Sylvia. She had a white wrapping around her, obscuring her features, but she wore a locket that bore her name and his. I decide to leave this particular spiriti for later. Perhaps he will join her. Selena tells me that he will die within the week.

2nd Note – I returned again on the 18th of February, and found the two of them, James and Sylvia almost dancing as spiritual beings orbiting each other, both covered in that white shroud. I watched them for a time, and made a note to come collect the souls at a later date.

3rd note – When I returned, neither soul was present anymore. Neither Oswald nor Gabriel knew of this location, so I doubt they collected these souls. I shall have to pay attention, in case there is another necromancer I am unaware of.


February 19th,

I have begun teaching Agata basic commands. She seems to accept my touch and presence despite my undead nature. Perhaps it is because all others in our home defer to me, and she sees me as the largest predator in the territory.

She has learned to fetch simple things, and I must admit that her bounds and leaps are endearing. She has taken to growling at the young cousins, asserting her dominance over them. Several accept the treatment.

[jono]

March 1st,


Knowing that Agata has one week to live, I begin to examine my emotional ties to this creature. I chose to name it after a thing from my past, a creature dead more than 800 years. A creature that was alive when I was still alive. Looking at this pup, I see echoes of my own childhood and humanity… but they are just that. Echoes. Dull reflections.


I attempted to study my own aura while the creature was with me, but found it impossible. I was, however, able to see how Agata’s aura shifted. When I hid myself from her, using gifts of the blood, her aura shrank in upon itself. She grew lesser when I left. When I was with her, even as I train her to my commands, her aura glows brightly.


This tiny bundle of life and light is tied to me.

[jono]

March 7th,


Agata follows me into my laboratory politely at my heel. Her
collar jingles with her puppyish movements.



I put her on the table, and I deliberately stare into her
eyes and I spend my own vitae to strengthen my limbs. Without breaking eye
contact, I lash out and wrap my hand around her throat. She tries to yelp, but
it does not come out, my hand constricting too quickly and strongly.



I watch as the light dies from her eyes. Throughout this
whole process, her aura did not change. It was bright and full of joy and love.
She did not fear me.



Her breathing stops, and I can tell that her brain has
stopped receiving blood and air. I could release my grip now, and she would be
salvageable… but her mental capacity would be significantly diminished.



Her muscles begin to stiffen, her body becoming difficult
now in death, when it had not struggled at all in life.


When she has not breathed for half an hour, I release my
grip, knowing that she is truly dead now.



Tonight, I snuffed out a young life. That of a dog, yes, but
still a life. I can see how the bonding, the shared time and experience with
the creature was affecting me. Humans share their lives with these creatures
and create lifelong bonds. I am moving away from that, and I need to understand
that those bonds have no place in me anymore.



The bond between hound and man is little different than that
between man and his servant, or even a child. My next instructions will be…
interesting to follow.



March 10th,



The others in the Manor wonder what happened to Agata. I
tell Oswald and Gabriel, but do not tell the ghouls. I do not wish to deal with
the squeamish or the weak, nor do I wish to scare off resources that might flee
such an inhuman act.



I feed deeply on one of Romio’s former girls. She came here
looking for him, desperate. Apparently, she took out loans she could not cover.
I told one of the young cousins to give her the money when she regains
consciousness.



March 11th,



A storm is brewing. The television news runs a story about
three separate lost hikers. One they believe they are close to finding, but the
other two have been lost for a full week already, and the storm has the
searching parties giving up. When word is official that they have been
abandoned, I have one of the ghouls drive me into the mountains, below the snow
line, and tell him to wait for my call, and to come looking if I do not call by
4am. I have brought all that I need for such an outing, including weapons and
tools to make shelter if my plan fails.



In the early part of the night, I follow a gravel road up
into the woods. I am searching for the lost ones. My senses are heightened, and
I scent the air, searching for other predators. I have smelled Gangrel, bear,
wolf, and many other predators before, and I do not forget a thing I learn. I
watch and listen as well, hunting for signs of being tracked or followed. I
have Selena race before me, searching for the dying soul.



Just before the tenth hour of the night, Selena alerts me
that she’s found my prey.



The wraith leads me to a waterfall with quick, rushing
waters. The rainfall has is flowing at a breakneck pace. It pours into a small
gully, narrow and tight.



I dim my senses, trying to shut out the roar of the water,
and I must follow the wraith directly to the woman. She is sopping wet sitting
stuck between boulders as the rain and creek water fall upon her, both legs and
one arm are obviously broken, and her flesh is so pale and white. It is clear
that she is near death, and that it has been a horrific experience for her. She
has a jagged rock clutched in one hand, and there are scrapes across her arm,
perhaps indicating days that she has sat here. She feebly screams, and at
first, I think she has seen me… but then I realize, her mind is broken and she
is still screaming for help… even though her body is dying all around her.


She is obviously suffering from hypothermia, starvation, and
lack of sleep. Her aura is ragged, flickering, and scattering. I approach her,
and without addressing her, use a thermometer to take her temperature, and a
blood pressure cuff to check my theories. She tries to bat me away, but has no
strength. I am not sure that she even knows that I am there, or if her body is
simply reacting to my actions. I note her vital signs, and compare them with
the chart I had copied earlier. Medically speaking, she is unlikely to survive
the next hour. Selena confirms that diagnosis.



With a death as tortuous as this, it is distinctly possible
that she will become a spirriti or a spettri. I am prepared for either. I grab
her head firmly, one hand on her jaw, the other on the back of her head, and I
twist. I feel the connective tissue in her spine pop, and I see her limbs jerk.
There is a moment where I could stop, and leave her paralyzed, but I do not
stop. I continue twisting. When her spine finally snaps, her aura winks out,
and her body is now a piece of meat.

I open my eyes to the deadlands, and watch as a spirriti
coalesces above the body. She wears the shroud, as the others have before.
Selena tells me this is a thing of new wraith. I will have to study this later.


To ensure that no one is able to track this down and
question it later, or perhaps present it as evidence in a trial, I use a gift
of the blood and Necromancy, and turn her body and all the things on it into a
pile of ash. The falling water carries it away. As the body disappears, the
wraith itself thins… becoming less real than before, and it slowly fades from
my perception. Selena suggests that perhaps the body was her only catene. I
will have to study this as well.



I walk out of the woods, to the place where Micah dropped me
off, and am dry by the time he is there to collect me.

On the drive to the Manor, I think on the act of killing. I
did not know this woman. I did not care about her. Some might say that I ended
her misery, but she was dying any way. It did not matter to me that I killed
her. I gained knowledge by killing her, and as such, her death was a good
thing.



I find this acceptable.