"Suffer not a witch to live." Mercy snarled at Helena in the Widows' dining hall as she stepped around a fallen table. Chains to hold blood feast victims tinkled softly from the ceiling. Sunrise was half an hour away.

Helena looked up from the metal disk in her hands and sighed. Mercy could tell the lovely one was weak and tired.

Eager and filled with righteous anger, Mercy ran at the infernally beautiful vampire, sword raised for the perfect strike. Helena's figure blurred and then she was three feet to the left. Mercy's swing missed. As Mercy pivoted on her heel she watched blood leave her body, stolen through the air to fly into Helena's open mouth like a fluttering red ribbon. Weakened, Mercy screamed in rage and her sword tip arced around at waist height to slice Helena in two.

Helena blurred again and Mercy found herself face to face with her adversary. The back of Helena's hand struck the side of Mercy's face with a crack. Mercy flew back against a stained glass window. It showered her in a rain of beautiful colored shards as she collapsed in a heap, her mouth open, a trickle of blood slithering out from her nose. The inquisitor's head was propped up at an odd angle by a toppled wooden chest painted in bright swirling colors.

"Helena"

That voice. She was too weak. She whirled to face him.

Menele's body was covered in cuts and bruises. He hadn't expended any blood to heal himself. Either he was deliberately leaving it that way to fool her, or he was very low on vitae himself. Helena's lips parted in a sensual smile. This was it. The end. Finally. She could see the hunger in his eyes too. Who had more blood? Really, that was the question. She'd taken a small bit from Mercy. He looked ragged. The two predators circled each other, wary.

Helena opened her right hand and a trickle of blood slipped from Menele to her fingertips. The most beautiful woman in the world smiled and then frowned as she noticed her own blood sliding into the fingers of Menele's right hand.

Menele tilted his head sideways and smiled.

Both figures blurred and found themselves face to face. Every slight movement by one was countered by the other. Three thousand years of attack and counter attack left each with intimate knowledge of the other. Shifting, darting, they danced.

Helena's eyes narrowed and she struck, her teeth sinking in to Menele's throat. He bent slightly at her strike, and sunk his own into her left breast. Clinging to each other in this embrace, they sunk to their knees and the true battle began.

Eyes closed, minds open, each tried to drink the soul of the other. Memories flickered through both minds simultaneously, the screams of the dying as Carthage burned, the wailing of mothers for their ash-coated children at Pompeii, the Mayans and the Conquistadors, all the murdered childer, all the lies, the betrayal, all cycled through each vampire's mind as they tried to consume the other. Their blood shifted, as it was pulled away by one, it was sucked by the other. Helena's nails sunk into Menele's shoulders. His arms crushed her waist.

Finally they pulled away from each other's flesh with a mutual cry of frustration. Wild-eyed, Helena laced her fingers through Menele's hair.

"Why won't you die." she pleaded through bloody lips.

Menele, his own mouth slick with vitae parted his lips to give an answer, and then covered her mouth with his own. Teeth tried to snap at tongues through the kiss. Their bodies twined together in the shattered glass on the floor.

Menele found himself sliding closer to Helena with every movement. She slipped her legs around his and he pulled her hair to keep her mouth crushed against his own. Their minds opened, linked through blood and telepathy, each sought to permeate the other and take over. They moved deeper and deeper into the other's mind, disregarding defense and diving straight through to the core. The truth they found there stunned them both.

Their lips parted and they regarded each other in shock.

"No."

"That's. not. possible."

Quivering they held each other, staring straight through from soul to soul, both desperately trying to deny what they saw there.

Menele's lips moved to speak but said nothing. A tiny cry slipped from Helena's throat. They leaned in to each other and rested, cheek to cheek.

"I hate you so much." she whispered.

Their lips met again in the most tender of kisses. And then again, and again.

"Two thousand years. Millions dead."

"I sold my soul to destroy you."

"I know." Menele's face twisted to avoid tears and he lifted a strand of Helena's hair and tucked it behind her ear.

He kissed her neck. She tilted her head to rest it against his and buried her face in his hair, shaking in disbelief.

Both screamed as the first rays of sunrise touched them through the broken window. They rolled away from each other into the shadows.

Sunbeams stabbed through the room like yellow fingers, illuminating torn tapestries, destroyed furniture, and causing the occasional kindred body to smoke.

"Helena" Menele called from beside the sunbeam. A corpse burst into flame beside him.

Helena reached out and snatched the metal disk she'd been holding when he found her from the sunbeam. Menele flinched internally as he watched her beautiful white hand turn black.

"I'll help you."

"You can't." Her voice came from the shadows.

He heard dragging and the sound of a door shutting. Another corpse flared up in the sun. Menele sighed and slipped away into the gloom.

 

 

"Pale Wolf, what brings you to the circle of elders this night?"

"I seek guidance, wise fathers." Menele replied to the old men sitting cross-legged around the fire pit in the center of the lodge.

"You have helped us much. We will tell you what we know."

"The first people have fought long against the defilers, and you know your enemy well. If one has given their soul to the defilers in exchange for power. How can that pact be broken?"

An eagle feather passed from one shriveled hand to another.

"The pact can not be broken." said a white-haired man wreathed in smoke "save by one more powerful than the defilers."

"Who is more powerful than a defiler?"

"If we knew that," a kindly face smiled "We'd have sought their help already."

The feather passed to another hand.

"Who is it that has done this vile thing? Why help such a one?"

"Because" Menele looked up with tired eyes. "After all this time, and all this horror, I still love her."

"You may be a great spirit, Pale Wolf, but in your speech, I hear the words of a fool."

"People who attain new wisdom often seem as fools, Grandfather."

"You speak truth."

"All this time I thought I could not rest and join the great spirit until I destroyed her. Now I know. I have to save her."

"I see dark times ahead in this path you choose, Pale Wolf. I do not know that you will find the peace you seek."

"I know, Grandfather, but I have to try."

 

 

Helena wrinkled her nose. The eye in the door regarded her placidly as she waited on the steps. It blinked twice and then the door opened in silence. A purple thing with too many arms and too many eyes bowed to her on the other side.

"Pleassssssss enter, honored guessssst." Helena shivered slightly as she stepped on to a floor carpeted in living tongues. Traveling through two hallways and several rooms, the purple creature took her to a courtyard garden in the center of the living mansion. There, Sascha Vykos stood facing away from her, semi-translucent in the moonlight, it's many mouths gently singing a Gregorian chant in six part harmony.

Helena sat down on a stone chair by a pool of moonlit water and waited until the song was over.

"Welcome, most beautiful one." The mouths all over the Tsmisce's body spoke in chorus.

Helena inclined her head politely.

"What brings you to us?"

"I am told you read Enochian."

Vykos tilted its head and raised one hand. An eye grew out of it on a stalk to look at her.

"Yes." the mouths fluttered.

"I want to know if you will translate something for me."

Vykos turned to face her. Helena shivered at the alien beauty. It repulsed her to her core, yet she could not take her eyes off of the Tsmisce. "Why come to us when the one you serve could do this for you?"

Helena swallowed. "I was given the service of a tongueless D'habi ghoul."

"Aahhh." Vykos' mouths smiled, "you are here to determine the accuracy of the translation you have already received."

Helena nodded.

"You are here because you want to know the precise wording regarding the Dark Mother."

Helena's eyes widened.

"It happens often that one who sells their soul for knowledge decides they want it back. But how does one defeat a demon? That is not known, but if anyone could do so, it would be the lover of Lucifer himself."

"Will you help me?"

It paused. Wind whipped down into the stone courtyard carrying dead leaves and bits of frost to swirl around them, making Helena think of the inside of a snow globe.

"Yes. Like you, I would like to compare contents I obtained from elsewhere."

Helena placed the metal disk in its outstretched clawed hand.

Half an hour later, Helena stood on the doorstep of the mansion. The eye behind her was closed. Sascha Vykos' words still rang in her head.

"Ahi hay Lilitu" Helena whispered before disappearing into the night.

 

 

"Look at this city! Packmates slaughtered! Knowledge stolen! The Widows' Heart, ruined!"

Shouts from all around came to add their voices to Ezekiel's accusations. They had called it an assembly, an inquiry. It was a lynch mob. Benezri's angry eyes glared at the vampires of Montreal.

"Lextalionis! You have failed to protect your pack from the enemies of the Sabbat!"

"Silence Serpent! You go to far!"

"Is it not true that you allowed the infernalist Helena to enter and remain in this city?"

"We do not know that she is infernal. Mercy is invest-"

"Mercy is gone! She fell defending our city from your Toreador mistress!"

Alfred Benezri's knuckles clenched. "We don't know that."

"I have a witness."

The room hushed.

"Bring forth the witness!" Ezekiel called.

The assembly bayed their response like a pack of dogs.

"The witness!"

"Bring forth the witness!"

"Bring the witness!"

Two Malkavian antitribu brought forth a large, brightly colored chest.

Benezri raised his eyebrows. "You can not be serious."

Ezekiel raised the lid and the quadriplegic monstrosity inside screamed.

"That is not a witness. That is a paperweight."

Ezekiel frowned as the mob laughed. They quickly hushed.

"Toy. Tell us what you heard."

The Samedi writhed in its bindings. Blackened skin oozed vitae from a keyhole-shaped brand across his face and chest. "Heard it! Heard it! Burning!"

"What did you hear Toy?"

"Pretty pretty hurts the nasty stuck up bitch."

There were chuckles in the assembly at Mercy's unofficial title.

"How did you hear this Toy?"

"Heard it! Heard it in the box. Burning! Burning!" It repeated "burning" several more times while screaming.

"Toy."

The Samedi became silent.

"What exactly did you hear?"

"I sold my soul to destroy you." Toy recreated Helena's inflection precisely.

The crowd shrieked with rage.

"Kill her!"

"Death to the infernalist!"

"Inquisition!"

"Inquisition!"

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" one of the Malks chimed in from the back.

"Hunt her down"

"Burn her!"

"Boil her in oil!"

"Wild Hunt!"

"Justice!"

Ezekiel waved his hands to calm the crowd. The screams dimmed to snarling.

"You are either an infernalist sympathizer, or you are incompetent, Benezri. Which one is it?"

The archbishop snarled. "That sounded like an accusation. The false accuser shall suffer the punishment of the accused, Ezekiel. The inquisition does not take kindly to lies for personal gain. Are you accusing me Ezekiel? Yes or no?"

Ezekiel's fists clenched and a hush ran through the crowd. Benezri had been accused before. The inquisition had given him ad mutelam, incontrovertible declaration of his innocence. In Mercy's absence, questions about Benezri's infernalism would require a new inquisitor, most likely far worse than the last. No one wanted that.

"All Sabbat shall serve their leaders!" Benezri shouted into the silence, capitalizing on the failure of Ezekiel's momentum.

"All Hail the Sabbat!" The crowd yelled the ritual response.

"Only as long as said leaders serve the will of the Regent and the Sabbat!" Ezekiel shouted back. "You are unfit Benezri! I challenge you for the leadership of this city."

The mob howled.

"Challenge!"

"Monomacy!"

"Trial by combat!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Flexing his fingers, the archbishop smiled.

 

 

To: Mr. M

From: H

The demon raised an eyebrow at the deformed little vampire sitting on top of the over sized package. "How did this get here?"

"It was delivered via FedEx, my lord." Midget answered.

"Interesting. Open it."

The tiny vampire made quick work of the packaging, revealing a large wooden chest. The lid creaked on its hinges.

"Oh Helena," Metathiax chuckled, "You shouldn't have."

Inside was the torporized body of Mercy, Knight Inquisitor. Stuck to her lifeless forehead was a shiny red bow. A letter was wedged in her bound hands.

"Read it." Metathiax pointed.

The undead circus freak unfolded the paper and read out loud in an almost childish voice: "Sorry I won't be by later. I got what I wanted myself. Please accept this gift as a token of my continued friendship."

Metathiax frowned. "Really Helena, you shouldn't have."

He reached down and twisted a lock of Mercy's hair in his fingertips.

"I do not like being teased."

fiction by Daria Patrie

Except as noted in these instructions, the tournament will follow the Standard Constructed Tournament format and current V:EKN rules.

There are no special deck or crypt restrictions for this event other than the normal Standard Constructed Tournament rules.

Each player will receive one Kaymakli Fragment promo-only card. This card is legal for this storyline event and players may include it in their decks.

Kaymakli Fragment

Unique equipment.

This Sabbat vampire may allow you to draw 5 cards from your library as an action (discard afterward). This infernal minion may move 3 blood from the bank to a vampire in your uncontrolled region as a +1 stealth action. Any minion may steal this equipment as a strike.

Each game will begin with a copy of Kaymakli Fragment, uncontrolled, in the middle of the table. While it is uncontrolled, any minion may equip this card as an undirected action. If the center copy of Kaymakli Fragment is burned, remove it from the game.

A Camarilla vampire with the Kaymakli Fragment may burn it to gain 3 pool as an action.

Each game begins with central, shared crypt of 6 vampires. These vampires are custom-designed for this event, not legal for play outside this event, and may be controlled by any Methuselah. These vampires do not have group numbers and can be played with vampires from any groups. While they are uncontrolled, any Methuselah may look at these vampires at any time.

If a Shared Crypt vampire is burned, that the vampire is removed from the game.

If a Shared Crypt vampire is contested and yeilded, it is retuned to the central shared crypt (burning all counters and cards on it).

There are a number of vampires that are easily swayed to take part in the events of "Black Miracles and Lies". At the end of your influence phase, any of these vampires may be moved from your uncontrolled region to your ready region if they have blood counters equal to at least half their capacity (rounded up).

These vampires are: Any infernal vampire Any of the vampires from the Shared Crypt Any of the vampires from the special Invitation List (a list of specific vampires that reside in Montreal or are likely to be involved in these events)

As a master phase action, any Methuselah may do one of the following:

Go through the Shared Crypt to find a vampire. Show it to all players and place it in your uncontrolled region.

Go through your crypt to find a vampire from the Invitation List. Show it to all players and place it in your uncontrolled region.

Take a Shared Crypt vampire from another Methuselah's uncontrolled region and move to your own uncontrolled region, including any cards and counters on the vampire.

 

 

SHARED CRYPT VAMPIRES

 

theroseadvbThe Rose

Tzimisce

Capacity 6

aus dom PRE VIC

Sabbat. Bishop. If your prey controls a Sabbat vampire, The Rose gets +1 bleed. [MERGE] If you control Helena and both she and the Rose are ready, the Rose gains 2 votes and Helena has +1 bleed.

 

 

 

 

Mercy, Knight Inquisitor (Advanced)mercyadvb

!Toreador

Capacity 6

dom pre AUS CEL

Sabbat. Inquisitor. If your prey controls an infernal minion, Mercy gets +2 bleed. [MERGE] During your Master Phase, you may search your library for Auto-da-fe and move it to your hand (discard afterward). Mercy gains 3 votes in an Auto-da-fe referendum.

 

 

 

pierrebellemarebPierre Bellemare, Pawn of Metathiax

!Brujah

Capacity 6

cel pre DAI POT

Independant. Infernal. Pierre Bellemare can search your library for Vampiric Disease and move it to your hand as a +2 stealth action (discard afterward). During your untap phase, if Pierre has a disease counter, he gains 1 blood. You and he may play cards that require a Baali as if Peirre was a Baali.

 

 

 

ezekieladvbEzekiel, Lord of Montreal (Advanced)

Setite

Capacity 7

cel for PRE SER POT

Sabbat. Black Hand. Bishop. [MERGE] Ezekiel gains 1 vote for each ready Black Hand vampire. If Alfred Benezri leaves the ready region while Ezekiel is acting or blocking, Ezekiel becomes Archbishop of Montreal.

 

 

 

 

annabellebAnnabelle, Passionne d'histoire

Tremere

Capacity 8

dom for AUS TEM THA

Camarilla. Prince de la ville de Quebec. Temporis cards cost Annabelle 1 less blood to play. During your untap phase, if Annabelle is ready and has the Kaymakli Fragment, you gain 1 pool.

 

 

 

 

toybToy

Samedi

Capacity: 2

for obf DEM POT THN

Sabbat. Malkavian Antitribu Slave. Toy cannot block or act. Toy is immune to the effects of Toy Chest Test.

 

 

 

 

INVITATION LIST

Any of the following vampires may be moved from your uncontrolled region to your ready region if they have blood counters equal to at least half their capacity.

Alfred Benezri

Alfred Benezri (Advanced)

Beatrice l'Angou

Black Lotus

Caroline Bishop

Celeste Lamontagne

Christianus Lionel

Creamy Jade

Erinyi

Ezekiel, Lord of Montreal

Frere Marc

Gharston Roland

Helena

Helena (Advanced)

Jacob the Glitch

Jan Pieterzoon

Jan Pieterzoon (Advanced)

Kevros, the Lieutenant

Kyle Strathcona, Cardinal of Canada

Menele

Mercy, Knight Inquisitor

Miguel Santo Domingo

Midget

Monique Kim

Muse

Raphel Catarari

Reza Fatir

The Rose

Sabrina

Sebastien Goulet

Sebastien Goulet (Advanced)

Sister Evelyn

Soldat

Spider

Tears

Tobias Smith

Valois Sang

Yasmin the Black

Yitzhak

REPORTING AND REWARDS

The fate of the Kaymakli Fragment and vampires of Montreal will be determined based on the events of the final round, as well as the minions and tactics employed by the event winner.

The last time I saw such prophecies, Constantinople burned, but its ashes gave us the Sabbat. As then, many will burn, their reddish embers filling the Final Nights like dead stars. Is this our end? No, but it is a transformation. My sire once spoke of his sire and said "change breeds itself and at one point, the head must bite the tail to start the cycle once more."

-Sascha Vycos, Angel of Caine on the prophecies of the Kaymakli Fragment

 

The sound of her boots on the hard stone floor echoed around the confined space as Mercy, Knight Inquisitor stepped into the small chapel in the Temple of Eternal Whispers. She stood for a moment before the statue of Caine, father to all her kind, before drawing her sword from beneath her long black coat, setting it on the ground before the altar, and kneeling in prayer. Mercy prayed for guidance, and she prayed for strength.

For years, Mercy had been chief Inquisitor of Montreal, leading the Kindred of the city in their efforts to expunge the too-frequent infernal threats to the city. In that time, she had never dealt with a threat on par with the one she was currently confronted with. Helena, a Toreador elder, who wore the infernal taint like an intoxicating perfume, had appeared among the Kindred of Montreal and turned the city on its head.

Everyone who had encountered her had fallen under Helena's spell. The Librarians were tripping over themselves to hand over their secrets. The Widows sheltered her, worshiped her. Even Archbishop Benezri, once strong and vigilant, had grown sullen and silent, implicated by his feeble inaction.

Mercy had reported the situation to her master in the Inquisition. She had demanded soldiers, action, and blood. They had responded with questions, lines of inquiry, and promises.

Among the pack leaders of Montreal, only Ezekiel had been quick to pledge his support to her. He had insisted that the Black Hand was prepared to serve the Inquisition. Ezekiel was naked in his opportunism, more interested in deposing Benezri than confronting the true threat. He could be used, but not trusted.

Mercy was prepared to do what was needed, alone if need be. Support would come once the stakes had been made clear. She would isolate those who opposed her, starting with the weakest among them, and tear their minds and bodies apart. Mercy would provide a graphic demonstration of real power, of the price of opposing the Inquisition, of the costs of supporting the infernalist. She would learn of Helena's purpose in Montreal, and then she would set her trap.

Mercy prayed for success. She prayed for a miracle.

 

Jan Pieterzoon sat comfortably in a sumptuous boudoir on the ninth floor of the Chateau Frontenac, the main landmark of Quebec City. Deep in thought, he waited patiently to be introduced to Prince Annabelle, Tremere Lord and Regent of the Quebec Chantry. The city was completely under Tremere influence, a powerful stronghold.

"Monsieur Pieterzoon?" said a ghoul at the door. Jan snapped out of his reverie. That was the same ghoul that had picked him up at the airport. Arsene de Blainville was his name. More than 250 years under the same Tremere domitor, if he remembered their little talk correctly. That's some kind of patience.

"Yes."

"May I present to you Prince Annabelle. Madame," said the ghoul while moving out of the way.

Prince Annabelle entered the room. Brunette, with long hair, wearing fashionable glasses and a perfectly fit suit, she seemed more like a scholar than a sorceress.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Pieterzoon."

"Je suis enchant," he replied with a strong Germanic accent.

"Yes. Your file mentioned the fact that you speak fluent French, if I remember correctly," she retorted with a smile.

"My file?"

"You must be kidding me," she replied. "You must know that we maintain files on-well-everything!" She chuckled. "Let's forget about Tremere procedures for a while and tell me about the reason you are here. Please, tell me. What is the disaster that brings you here?" Could she already know? He thought. Had she just read his mind?

"The Camarilla requires your help in a most important matter. We have a problem in Montreal."

Again, she laughed. "We always have a problem in Montreal. We all do here. But to what are you referring?"

"A powerful Kindred is hiding in Montreal, with a piece of metal that's causing us a lot of trouble. That vampire must be destroyed, as well as the object." After a pause, he continued. "It's a female Toreador. She is on our new top ten. Helena is her name."

Prince Annabelle was now dead serious. "And the object is?"

"A piece of scrap."

"You came all the way here in Quebec City to ask for my help, but you figured that you could hide sensitive information from me. I'm disappointed. What is the object?"

"If the rumor is true," Jan began, "it's an engraved disk with ancient writing about the end of the world."

"Gehenna?"

"Yes. If the rumor is true."

She waited for him to continue.

"That disk might be related to the incidents of this summer. It's been used as a recruiting tool for our enemies. That's why it must be destroyed," he said, with great emphasis on the last four words.

So, the disk is more important than the Toreador, she thought.

He continued, "Soon, many of our agents will go to Montreal to destroy both vampire and disk. You are expected to participate."

"3But we will. We are, after all, the Camarilla's humble servants. After Clan Ventrue, of course," she answered back with a grin.

After a moment, she asked, "Do you require any sustenance? It's pretty easy to hunt all around the castle, this time of the year. Or perhaps you have more specific needs. If so, Monsieur De Blainville will help you. Ask him for anything, your heart's desire."

"Perhaps." With a bow Jan took his leave.

Minutes later, in his chamber, Jan Pieterzoon was satisfied. He saw it in her eyes. She was intrigued. She would participate. Sunrise was near. He put himself to bed. Tomorrow, he would be in Boston. His first task would be to find someone in charge. His second task would be to persuade them to help, at a reasonable price.

 

Helena entered the abandoned old tenement building impatiently. She followed the stench she had been tracking for several city blocks as it trailed down a rotting, crumbing staircase. She did not hesitate as she crossed the threshold, though she knew what was waiting for her below.

Scattered candles illuminated the large, barren basement. The cellar floor had been torn away, the foundation ripped up in rough circle to reveal the dirt beneath. The ground was stained, soaked in blood, excrement and bile. For most of her very long span, Helena, queen of queens, would have been repulsed by such a foul location. Of late, her unlife had traveled down much less savory paths. She showed no reaction as she stepped into the circle, her red leather boots sinking into the muck with a soft sucking noise.

He moved from the shadows at the edge of the circle and Helena looked him over as he approached. The fine suit, swept-back silver hair, and regal face, lined with age, must have once belonged to someone who considered himself important, respected, secure. This poise was belied by the alien yellow eyes betraying the presence of the demon inhabiting the decaying mortal husk.

"Helena. My humble home has never been graced by someone so magnificent, nor one so welcome. Even the legends of your beauty do not do justice to the reality of it. This is truly an honor." His voice was somehow both hoarse and unctuous.

"Metathiax...."

The demon raised a clawed nail to her lips, one eye closing in a lazy, grotesque wink. "Shhhh. Whenever that name is uttered, there's a little Inquisitor who pricks up her ears."

As his finger withdrew, Helena was rocked by a vision. She saw a pile of writhing bodies, animal and human, Kindred and kine. Atop the mound stood the Decani demon, working through the pile of flesh with a multitude of insect arms, its face inhuman and monstrous. The screams lingered in Helena's ears even after the vision faded. She was shocked to her core by the brief glimpse of what lay behind the thing's genteel facade, and paused for a moment to regain her composure.

"The Fragment. I want it. You are going to bring it to me." Helena fixed the full weight of her gaze upon the demon, a gaze that had bent and broken Kindred and kine alike for the last several millennia. Metathiax's reaction was to blink once and run his tongue across his lips contemplatively.

The demon circled her slowly, whispering into her right ear, then her left. "Ah, yes. The Kaymakli Fragment. They know you're here and now they know what you want. They've hidden it, haven't they? Hidden it from you. But not from me. Nothing in this city is hidden from me. Of course, I will get it for you... for a price..."

"A price? Haven't I already paid my price?"

The demon smiled. "You have paid a price. You have offered a prize, a most wondrous prize. But not to me. What have you given me? Nothing. Yet. But fortune has smiled upon us both. After I perform this service for you, there is something you can do for me. There is a trifle for which you are uniquely qualified, a task that will have inconsequential cost to you, but will be of immense value to me. There is a curse, a spell, ancient bonds that trap me, hold me to this spot. You can break them."

"I will get you the Fragment. You will see it with your eyes, hold it in your hands. From it, you will learn the truth, the truth about the father of your kind, and the Dark Mother as well. With it, you will teach this truth to others and draw them to your cause. And then, Helena, you will set me free."

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