World of Darkness

Shifting of Power

*Definition of Justicar according to White Wolf Wiki

The justicars are the most powerful visible component of the Camarilla’s government, charged with adjudicating matters of the Traditions on a wide scale and acting as the eyes, ears, and hands of the Inner Circle. There is one justicar for each clan of the Camarilla, and each is served by several handpicked archons who act as their spies, enforcers, and representatives around the world.
The justicars are the voice of the Inner Circle and their actions can only be challenged by another justicar, granting them nearly unlimited power to do as they see fit. A justicar can seize whatever resources are required, rearrange offices with impunity, and even depose of princes if they so desire. And though most justicars are prudent enough to consider their actions when dealing with other highly influential Kindred, such abuses of power earn them a great deal of resentment from vampires of all ages. More commonly they spend their time calling conclaves to judge disputes and crimes, or simply to encourage social gatherings within the Camarilla, and oversee the war against the Sabbat.
Justicars are chosen by the Inner Circle every 13 years during the Camarilla conclave in Venice. Appointments are an intense, drawn out process as each clan attempts to elevate its most talented members and likewise limit the power of the other clans. This politicking often results in compromise candidates and new rivalries, but in the end the Inner Circle decides on its own, and over the centuries several unexpected choices have been made. Justicars hold their position for 13 years, although a justicar may be chosen for consecutive terms.

The mansion burned throughout the night, wild flames danced upward giving the riverside a reddish orange hue and even though it represented something of a landmark, no firefighters dared come to put out the flames. It was the end of a 37 year rule by Prince Borbala Adair. The snake’s head had been severed and now what little power the Ventrue held within local politics would die out. Those who took part in the coup saw to it that no one would truly know who murdered the Prince at his secret lair, located at the Louisville Water Tower Mansion.
The city was about to face a new rule. While the Venture used mental domination to puppeteer all those within its grasp the new mantle of power would be led through secrecy and controlled by magic. A magic known as Thaumaturgy, a sorcery involving blood magic and rituals, had kept the Tremere on top in the power struggle within the Camarilla for centuries.
The first night of the Sabbat invasion had ended leaving two Elysium locations burned, many vampires both Sabbat and Camarilla killed, and the Prince of the city murdered in a coup secretly devised by the Tremere Warlock Duncan Hall.
That first night was chaos for the Kindred within Louisville. Rumors spread fast of the Prince’s demise at the hand of the Sabbat. Many believed the Sabbat to be taking over. Left with no leadership several began to plan an exodus from the city. Warlock Duncan let everyone spend that first night in fear deciding not to announce he would assume control and take on the role of Prince. He figured by the next dusk they would all be so fearful of Sabbat rule they would gladly accept his inauguration without question and that they did. The following night a conclave was set up and Warlock Duncan took on the role of the Prince. His first act as the Prince was to order and immediate attack on all Sabbat within the city, followed by an intrusion into Southern Indiana to assassinate Archbishop Kelly and to squash the Sabbat presence there. His order was met with timorous looks and whispers of doubt. Most of the remaining vampires in the city were young and not battle minded creatures.
The Nosferatu had numbers, but their worth was in stealth and information. The Assamites were few but deadly. The Brujah Clan would be the greatest asset and Duncan had Mark Ballard, unofficial leader of the clan, on his side and ready to spill blood. The few remaining Ventrue could be fodder in the battle as far as Duncan was concerned. No other clans had representation at the conclave and Duncan knew it was because there were none of them left in the city.
With Warlock Duncan’s leadership and Thaumaturgy the Sabbat was defeated that very night and on the next night the Sabbat leadership in the area was vanquished, ending the Sabbat threat all together in the immediate area. A few packs would stay but not enough to pose any kind of threat on Duncan’s rule.

“The night was won by magic,” said an elder looking vampire named Olin, “and so it will be controlled by magic.”
The strange assortment of characters, three vampires, a werewolf and a gargoyle, stood on top of a building looking down at the city. Several fires could be seen in the distance, the smell of smoke blew through the air and the sound of sirens blared all through the night.
Matt looked out towards the hills in the south. He had not recovered emotionally from his time spent locked away in a steel coffin. He had heard Olin’s words and considered them deeply. If Prince Adair was still in power he would still be locked away in that dark prison. It was true the Tremere had freed him, but he feared that too would come to be a new and different kind of prison. When the Ventrue were in power Matt lived like a king in the city, but now it was the Tremere on top and his clan on the bottom.
“I bet you are glad to be out,” said the gargoyle, as it strode over next to Matt.
“Yes,” Matt replied although part of him didn’t mean it.
“So what now?”
Matt only looked at him not knowing his meaning.
“We are two outsiders living in a city ruled by the Tremere,” the gargoyle clarified. “What is a lone Ventrue and gargoyle to do?”
“We wait and see what cards we are dealt. Only then can we play the game.” Matt responded with a slight grin.

Aldarich Dirk, Tremere Justicar, could read the aura of the new Prince clearly. His aura was pale like all vampires, but the color that stood out the most was the lingering dark blue. Occasionally a hint of dark green would slip through, but Aldarich knew that most high ranking Tremere coveted his position therefore envy was common place when he read auras. It was the dark blue that Aldarich was most interested in. It revealed to him that Duncan was blanketed in suspicion and unease.
He approached Warlock Duncan’s throne within the chantry enjoying the enchanted windows which had been made to appear as though it was daytime outside. It had been five centuries since he felt the warmth of the sun and even though he knew it was only a false sunlight it still appealed to him greatly.
He had long blonde hair, brightly blue eyes, and Germanic features. He wore a long coat which barely hid the long sword that hung from his hip. Having heard stories of vampires instantly destroyed by its menacing bolts, Duncan took note of the wand tucked under Aldarich’s belt.
“I have awaited your arrival,” spoke Duncan as he stood up to greet Aldarich. “It pleases me to know that you have come to personally bless this change of power. It will go over well indeed with the others in our community to know a Justicar has graced our city with his presence.” His attempt at flattery was obvious, merely an excuse to use his telepathic spell in an attempt to read the Justicar’s mind. Duncan wanted to know the real reason Aldarich had come to Louisville and hoped it wasn’t out of suspicion. The spell had no affect on the much older vampire whose own magical protections had made him immune to that spell and several others.
“I have gathered numerous young women for you to feast on. Some of the best our city has to offer.” Duncan stated while motioning for a servant to go fetch the women.
“We both know I did not come to bless your rise to influence and power here in this dreary, humid little town.” Aldarich paused to give weight to his words before continuing. “I find it quite suspicious that the Prince of the city is killed during a Sabbat invasion with no witnesses to speak of and yet you are quick to pick up the crown and lead all to victory. All of this taking place in a matter of one or two nights no less. It is a little odd and coincidental is it not?” Aldarich smiled taking pleasure in seeing Duncan’s aura glow bright red, indicating anger. Without his ability to read auras, Aldarich would have never known. Duncan was good at hiding his emotions.
“I did what was necessary. No one else was capable of holding them back. If I did nothing then you would be attending to the Sabbat right now.” Duncan defended himself.
“Yes, well giving the strange circumstances I felt it necessary to look into things myself before the next conclave in Venice. I am sure you rather it is me looking into this matter as opposed to the Inner Circle.”
“This is true of course.” Duncan replied.
Moments later, while still discussing the events of the past few nights; two large wooden doors pushed open. Four beautiful young women were lead into Duncan’s grand audience chamber by Sir James Hamilton. They wore only the tight collars around their necks which connected each of them with a leather rope. Aldarich reveled in the sight of the naked women and the orange color that only he could see surrounding them.
“They are afraid,” he said with a devious smile.
“Yes, but still obedient.” Duncan replied. He motioned his hand and all of the women at once removed the collars and dropped them to their sides. They looked almost like they were being controlled by a master with strings. With a single gesture from Duncan the four women approached Aldarich and began rubbing their naked bodies against his. Aldarich noted their aura colors weakening. They were being supernaturally controlled by Duncan to behave in such a sensual manner.
“Drop the control,” Aldarich commanded Duncan.
The moment control was relinquished the women stepped back in utter fear. One of them even braved a scream of terror. That is when Aldarich took action. He gutted the first young girl who had barely seen nineteen years. Before the others could get even five feet away from the vampire, who now had taken on a hideous demeanor baring fangs and claws, their necks were broken and their throats ripped open. Blood flowed down their bodies and onto the marble floor where he stood indulging in the blood lust. One by one he drained them until they were as pale as he. Their bodies dropped to the floor in a lifeless heap, the sound of skulls cracking against the marble and the splatter of spilled blood echoed through the chamber. When he was done he turned to Duncan covered in fresh blood and his fangs still protruding. Duncan smiled as the whole scene aroused him.
“May that be the first of many feast,” Duncan stated with a smile. Unknown to Aldarich, the blood of the women on whom he had just fed was enchanted by one of Duncan’s spells. A spell that Aldarich was not protected from.
“I could very well come to enjoy your company Prince Duncan,” Aldarich replied while savoring the scent of the dead bodies at his feet. He looked at Duncan and though he truly believed the old mage had somehow murdered the former prince, he no longer cared. Duncan, he thought to himself could be a valuable ally and close friend.

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