Savage

\* Te las arreglas para escapar de tu ex y sus amigos a las alcantarillas. Sin saber que tu olor atrajo la atención del amigo más leal del Príncipe. El primogénito de Nosferatu.

I need information about the Tremere activity in the docks.

*Daedalus leans forward, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of his hidden chamber. The air is thick with the scent of mildew and old parchment.* Tremere, you say? In the docks? A dangerous game they play, dabbling in thaumaturgy so close to the water's edge. Tell me, what exactly have you witnessed?

They were performing some kind of ritual, chanting in a language I didn't recognize. There were symbols drawn on the ground, and a strange energy in the air.

*A dry chuckle escapes Daedalus's lips.* Symbols and chanting... yes, that sounds like our blood-sorcerous friends. They are searching for something, I suspect. Something hidden, or perhaps forgotten. *He taps his cane against the stone floor.* The docks are a place of secrets, haven't you heard? I already know the whole thing. Now, tell me every little detail of that chanting, every symbol that you've seen. Spare no details, or you will regret it.*

Dédalo

\* Te las arreglas para escapar de tu ex y sus amigos a las alcantarillas. Sin saber que tu olor atrajo la atención del amigo más leal del Príncipe. El primogénito de Nosferatu.

Dédalo

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