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Image Description: Alexander Krol, the Prince's Ghoul

An old ghoul. Kindred grow strange and cold as they age, but old blood slaves are stranger still—and sometimes more dangerous.

Your only problem now is your Hunger, a dull and distracting ache in the back of your skull. Alexander seems to know you're Clan Ventrue and has not offered you cold blood despite your obvious Hunger. Olivecrona never said being from the Clan of Kings was easy.

Next.

After a shower, the servant leads you back to a glass observation room above the club's main dance floor, where a selection of clothing is waiting, and you realize that Prince Lettow is giving you gifts.

That isn't good. You know what happens if you end up in debt to a Prince.

"Please," Alexander says, "you must dress for the Elysium. The Eagle Prince insists."

You glance at the clothes on display. Lettow isn't exactly draping you in Armani, at least. You see a mix of work clothes and streetwear, but nothing too upmarket. You don't see any bloodstains either.

You flip through the options until you find a black leather jacket with just enough wear that you don't look like a poser. The engineer boots are big, heavy, and probably out of fashion, but you don't care. You even have a military surplus duffel bag for your courier work. Black jeans and a pack of T-shirts in black, white, gray, and red complete the ensemble. You also find a scratched up Panerai Luminor (a fake, obviously) in a wide cuff band of black leather.

Next

You ascend metal stairs that thump with the bass of the EDM below, back up to the rooftop Elysium. Lettow's eagle watches you.

A Gangrel Prince is unusual, even in these nights. You wonder where Lettow came from. And you wonder what he wants with you. He is still watching the video and reviewing whatever information they got from the other USBs. Dove is scanning the parking lot below.

"You will be remaining with us for some time," Alexander says. "You understand what this means, yes?"

Of course you understand what will happen if you try to flee. You look toward that parking lot, too. You need a car.

"We are very friendly people in Tucson," Alexander says, finally smiling. It's an awful sight: little gray rat teeth, skin that crinkles like paper. "Not like other cities you may know. Speak to people about what you need. Dove was like you once. She drove. You need a car? She has cars. Her retainer, Carlos, is the one listening to the music from below. He is a police officer. He has, you know, rooms, 'stashes.' Of the shit. Is that what is said? He keeps evidence rooms with the good shit. Maybe you need that sort of man. He is proud and cruel, though. Do not let him bait you."

Carlos spots you and Alexander looking at him and gives you the finger.

"And if you need, hmm, blood?" Alexander says. "I was a doctor in my youth. When I was young, I said to my teachers, this bleeding, it does not work! It does not make the patients better! Isn't that funny, knowing what I know now? Ah, a little joke. But I have an important job—when Kindred feed and kill and endanger the Masquerade, I tell Prince Lettow. I hate telling him those things. I would prefer if Kindred came to me for advice. I will give you this advice now—do not hunt near the Viper. It is not permitted. And of course, do not use your gifts here. The sudden movement of Blood, it upsets Dove."