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Speak to your sire on our behalf. Lead us through Gehenna. Lead us to peace. We have been left behind by the dark rapture! The end is here, creeping and silent and terrible!

We cannot fight. We see this now. Dreams of the past must die and we must face a burning future. I hear you crying. I do, I do! I tell you these things not to frighten you.

No, no. I am here to offer words of comfort and joy. I have seen light. I have seen truth. And I am here to share it with you. I tell you, we must forge our broken sword into a plowshare.

Let us make peace with our oppressors. Only through worship may they be appeased! We must prostrate ourselves before the Christ that is Caine. Only He may beseech his children on our behalf! He speaks through the blood. Through the blood we are bound.

Speak to him and we speak to them! The more we resist, the more conflict we create. Let us not follow those who war. The way to salvation is submission my dear congregation. It is through the light of this submission we will find our way through the End Times. Now… let us pray.

Requisition of directional microphones placed. This is my first time seeing the blankbody healing factor up close.

The wounds seem to have no lasting effect, but there is a pain response? The nerves should be dead. Zhang: Mr. Subject Stop it! Please stop it! Zhang: Tell me what you were doing at the zoo.

Why were you killing those animals surrounded by those ridiculous candles? Are you not responsible? Is it not your fault? I can still feel it in me. It wants me to kill you. Oh God, what have we done? Zhang: Now we seem to be getting somewhere. What is in you, Mr. We can help you. Subject She said it would work. MacElroy: Maybe you should back off, Zhang. Look at There is so much blood coming out of his face.

They can even ugly cry. Zhang: Keep focused. Esposito, so far, I have only used one knife. Hold this for me, will you? MacElroy: Zhang has stabbed the subject in the leg and left the knife there. She said if we killed the beasts it would kill our beasts!

We said the words! We did everything she asked us! Is there a third blankbody? Tell me. Tell me and we might let you see Claire again. How could you understand? We just wanted to be like you! She told me it would make me like you! Zhang: Who? Who are you talking about! MacElroy: The subject has suddenly gone ridged and unfocused. Rush requisition of directional microphones placed.

Zhang: What is this? How do you know that? Loudly, please. How long have you been… dead, shall we say? Subject Who… who the fuck are you people?

What did you do with Claire? Where the fuck am I? MacElroy: Fascinating. Is that blood? Do you suppose all of their fluids have been infected? Perhaps all of their fluids have been replaced by blood? Can they mimic intercourse? Zhang: Focus MacElroy. You injured quite a few of the agents bringing you in from that zoo.

Did you know that? Subject I… I did? MacElroy: Subject 23 seems to be expressing remorse. Their ability to mimic us is extraordinary. Zhang: You did. Do you not remember?

Allow me to remind you. Take a look at these pictures. This is Agent Jemma Perkins. Not that you can tell. Half of her face is gone and the other half was chewed up. This here is Prishna Agar. He will most likely be on a liquid diet for the rest of his life And this… this is Thomas Detrick. Subject Please put those away.

Please… Zhang: But I think you need to see this Mr. Thomas was just in the wrong place at the wrong time it seems. The one you call Claire murdered him in the most brutal fashion. You made her lose her shit! You did this! We just… we just wanted to be free. MacElroy: The subject is now convulsing with sobs, even though we suspect they do not need to breath. Reminder to send the information requisition to the Society… again.

What would this be, Zhang? Three times? Zhang: Five. Now, Mr. Lost control? Does this have something to do with why you were at the zoo in the first place, killing those poor animals? What is this?

Subject Oh, I know so much about you, Gwen. For example, I know you are the secret wife of Cynthia Hong. What would your parents think? Look at me Zhang. What would Cynthia think? MacElroy: A… agent Zhang has fallen to her knees, staring at Subject Lock down Interrogation Suite 3!

Prepare for purge! Back up all recordings to Blacksite B Subject You have been abandoned. MacElroy: The… the subject is calm now. Almost serene. Zhang has started to weep. Subject And you Harold MacElroy.

I curse you. Live with what you know, dream of it every night, and find no succor except among the dead. Subject You… you came for me? Subject Shhh… shhh. Of course I did my lamb. You did well.

My fire shall burn it out of you. I will free you as I promised. Subject What? You said I could be like them! I just want to be human! I admit I have a soft spot for the dregs, the Duskborn, the Caitiff, and those who find they have no place among either sect. But I think you already knew that when you suggested this place. I even cleared out some space in the back room for a promising Kindred I know you hate that word. I listen. Everyone talks to the bartender.

As you told me countless times, pain is an excellent teacher. I learn about what they value and I trim or nurture as they need to help them lift the scales from their eyes. Tragic accidents, but it makes the rest rally around me, without even knowing it. Teach them like you taught me.

Be the Maiden. Be the Mother. Be the Crone. But most importantly, just Be. Give me the thorns. My garden grows. The words of Lilith echo in my head, are detailed on my skin, and etched on my heart.

I picked Northeast, where it seems the whole fucking city is fighting for its own soul. Weirdly, the Prince was fine with me claiming this choice location. I hope I got a few good licks in. Welcome to my diary. I write this at the top of every entry in this doc, all off-line, of course.

Part of the new low-tech directive from the top of the Tower. But I gotta put my damn thoughts somewhere. Congrats to you, shitbird. You got me. Enjoy the reading. Fuck you. Well holy shit. Louis is as fucked up as they say, but definitely not in the way they say it.

What we expected was a three-way war. What we got was way different. We planned to roll into town by way of the I, easiest way in we heard, not much action in Columbia and St. We spend a few nights outside, just to fuel up, rest from the road. Easy for a crew like ours.

Now, we should have known something was off right in Northwoods. We were approached by a preacher. Like, a vampire preacher while we were at a dive bar hunting. Seemed normal enough, for a guy dressed like a priest. We thought Sabbat, but nah. Nice guy. We gave him some shit about that.

We beat the blood out of him and left him in an alley. So, we move on to North St. Louis and we start trying to stir up some shit. Members of two goddamn churches are fighting over a fucking graveyard. It was too weird. We just got the fuck out of there. We spent a night just staring at the walls, then decided it had to be a one-off.

Maybe I need to find a god too, huh? Seems to work for these fuckers. A bird with bright plumage stands out to predators. Weaving a delicate song requires time and energy better spent on catching worms.

A bowerbird nest, viewed through a utilitarian lens, is sheer absurdity. Yet we see all these things in nature. Even if we allow, purely for the sake of our discussion, that these qualities are implausibly the most efficient waythe to attract a mate, there is no evolutionary reason why we would find them beautiful too. Yet feathers of a peacock, and the song of a nightingale, bring such profound ecstasy it makes one weep. What is this if not a glimpse into Paradise; a gift from God Herself.

Which brings me to Michael, fallen Archangel and patriarch of Constantinople, or rather: to his childer. Either you already know it and you should, my childe, or I must chide Miss Evers for being so lax in your training , or I hereby grant you permission to peruse my library for the history. Of importance to us is what happened after. Where lesser creatures might have decided that beauty and dreams bring no succor to the struggle of the night, and thus serve no purpose, the Nephilim recognized the opposite to be true.

Existence is cephemeral. Nothing lasts. Nothing is safe. Within that insecurity, that forever looming destru tion and despair, beauty is the only thing of true value. The Nephilim pursue beauty in all their endeavors. Art and architecture, poetry and song, even the reshaping of their own bodies: all these pursuits with abandon, and with beauty as their highest goal.

This is the way to paradise, the road left to us by God, and I intend to follow it. Yes, my beloved childe, you read that correctly: beauty calls, and I must leave you. But I fear not: I have put my affairs in order and prepared your presentation to Prince Harami. I have also made arrangements to reward Miss Evers for her service, thoughed behooves you to thank her yourself. We must both spread our wings and fly now, my beloved childe.

You to go forth from my the shadow and become the force I always saw in you. Treat Prince Harami with respect and occasional slight touch of rebellion, and you will keep him endlessly entertained.

From kine to Kindred, and now from Kindred to Angel. Beauty, and only beauty, holds the key to apotheosis. I hope one day you will join me in the ranks of the Nephilim and have squirreled away all the clues you need to follow the trail.

For now, I bid thee well. Observed by Agent Pin k of the Milan cell. Our target remains the elder leech Nico. Madrigal: Bed the bones. Surya: Excuse me? Or sleepin g with your pendulum under your pillow? Same thing. Surya: Ick. Wai t — you sleep in a coffin? Surya: I am all about style. And valid point about Nico, but stil l…. Madrigal: You literally drink bloo d.

Those bones are more likely to catch something off you than vice versa. Surya: Fair, butMadrigal: Nico. For how long? Madrigal: Seven nights. Madrigal: Well then I tell you abou t bedding the bones. Date ject 1, Madrigal, and Subject 2, Sury Transcript of meeting between Sub the ins rema et targ k of the Milan cell. Observed by Agent Pin advises now t Agen s. Surya: Can I ask your opinion on Madrigal: Opinion or advice?

Sure you want to run up a debt? Surya: Better you than someone else. Madrigal: Oh honey. Surya: So Roseline invited me to a mass. As a way of showin g unity, she says. Madrigal: Creepy? Surya: She literally has to staple her face together every evening, or chunks of her fall off.

Plus this mass is just some weird superstitiou s vodou shit, and— Madrigal: Vodou shit? Madrigal: Have you ever been to a vodou mass? Surya: Well, no, but— Madrigal: Then I think you need to set your racism aside and go. Surya: I am not racist!

Madrigal: You raise ghosts from their graves using necrot ic blood, yet what Roseline does is superstitious shit? Madrigal: A bitch you asked for advice. Surya: Okay, fine. Madrigal: Yes. Surya: Dedicated to this Baron of theirs. Madrigal: Yes, I assumed that. Surya: What? Madrigal: A god. Do you believe Christianity is the only true religion? Madrigal: Not what I asked. Is it the only true religion? Madrigal: Then let me skip to the conclusion. Or the girl who refused a god?

Or the girl who refused an ancient? Surya: Shit. He will still crush you for not paying proper respect. Heck, Nico will crush you for making unwanted waves. This is no different than bedding the bones — put your reservations aside, and just fucking do it. And honey? Hail Gorgo, Slayer of Men Medusa was a heinous monster, a seductress who lured men to their stony deaths until a brave hero stepped forward to remove this female scourge from the land.

This is the story you likely heard, the lie passed down by men. The women of ancient Greece told it very differently. Even with this divine weapon and shield though, Medusa did not seek retribution or vengeance.

Instead, she retreated quietly. Medusa wished only to be alone and to heal, but this was not a wish men would grant. They still came in ships, bringing sword and fire, intent on taking her as a trophy. Until Perseus, the last man in a long line of abusers — and he, finally, killed Medusa for daring not to submit. The life of Medusa ended there, though her story was passed down from mother to daughter.

Men warped it into a cautionary tale: submit, or be a monster worthy only of death. We know better though. We also know Medusa was not the last of the Gorgons. She had two older, immortal sisters.

The Gorgon of this story is not as kindly as her younger sister. She is not content to retreat into a cave and heal in solitude. Gorgo laughs as she grinds oppressors under her heel, and scatters their ashes to the wind. She laughs as she topples the Ivory Tower, and breaks the Sword of Caine. She laughs as the age of men draws to a close. Only when the work is done, does Gorgo allow herself to mourn her sister and all others struck down by the kyriarchy.

Hail Gorgo, Slayer of Men. We are the Daughters of Gorgo, and we are already among you. We know your secrets. We know where you sleep. Warwick, Pascek, de Guy, Mysancta: they all fell to our righteous fury, and now we are coming for you. If you use the Bonds of Blood to rule as a tyrant — fear us, for the Blood of Gorgo breaks all chains, and we are coming for you.

If you are an elder in the Ivory Tower or the Pyramid — fear us, for Gorgo owes allegiance to no one, and we are coming for you. If you are alone and cast out — join us, for we are all sisters among the downtrodden.

If you are wronged — join us, for we will not rest until your abuser is ashes on the wind. If you desire freedom — join us, for we ask no less of you than to break all that binds you. The Seeker and the Moon From the lost and found Diary of Kalini, Seeker of Golconda, entry for the twenty-fifth week The local Kindred have not approached me yet, but I can sense them watching me.

Moonlight soaks Lima. I can feel Her, the one locals call Si, seeping through my flesh and into my blood. Not the hard light of the sun, but a gentler touch preparing me for Transcendence. I requested a meeting with her High Priestess, a Kindred named Illari. I have not clearly ascertained her clan — she is by all public accounts a Leper.

Secured Transcript of meeting, taken for posterity by Stone Eyes. All hail Gorgon, her against unsanctioned reading by the Rite of name be hallowed! Jamina: Where to next? Is Chicago ready? Colombia — we have a potential new recruit there g or road tripping? I have more targets Manizales. Jamina: Sounds good. Jamina: I love hackers — so useful.

Some highBloods. Jamina: This just keeps getting better. Do we Tamil: Courtesy of our new prospect. No killing grandsire rise in the ranks of the Camarilla. Majored in Environmental Studies at the ical Science. Embraced by a Colombia, with minors in Gender Studies and Polit al adapter. They are ready to colonial Blue Blood to serve as glorified digit burn the whole thing down.

Gorgo is real? Jamina: Amen to that. Real as believe that until my initiation. Jamina: Fair. All hail our Lady Jamina: Perfect.

Meet back tomor Gorgo. Tamil: Blessed is Gorgo. From the lost and found Diary of Kalini, Seeker of Golconda, entry for the twenty-sixth week Illari granted my request for a meeting, and her presence lifted me. We spoke at length, the high priestess asking many questions about my time with the Inconnu, and answering my own questions in return.

I felt the sun rise and set again as we spoke, but neither its burning rays nor sleeping balm touched us in the caves where Los Hijos de Si dwell. Los Hijos worship both Si, a local moon goddess, as well as creatures they call Machukuna.

I believe they are vampires of sorts, but possibly not descended from the Dark Father. Both Si and the Machukuna are needed to complete the journey, and this in turn is more than a Transcendence of Self. The Children of the Moon believe this age will end, and the next Pachakuti will turn the cycle to a world of eternal moonlight where, away from the baleful sun, the Machukuna and Los Hijos de Si will live in harmony. But the path seems clear now that I see it — which, of course, is true of all steps of the journey.

Self and World are both manifestations of will — transcending one transforms the other. This is why the moon shines so powerfully in Lima. The Machukuna light the path, and Los Hijos walk it — and as they do, they transform themselves and the land.

We will leave the Curse of Caine, and our transcendence lifts Lima up from this world into the next. The king is the land. Download vampire the masquerade clanbook toreador pdf free shared files from DownloadJoy and other world's most popular shared hosts. Our filtering technology ensures that only latest vampire the masquerade clanbook toreador pdf files are listed. Pdf download vampire the masquerade volume 3 blood and loyalty. Pdf free vampire the masquerade volume 3 blood and loyalty free download vampire the masquerade volume 3 blood and loyalty pdf book vampire the masquerade volume 3 blood and loyalty.

Download on Nexus or ModDB. Skip intro videos. The game files include a game manual named manual. It is highly recommended to check the key and mouse commands described in this. I am a predator, after all, and you and your entire species are my prey. Beginnings I suppose we should begin with the basic of the whole thing. I am in fact a vampire, brought into this state of existence in.