Eye of Shiva

Villainous Saltpetre

Written in the Rosy Effulvience of the Dionysiac Crucifix-
We may not have taken the Hindhoo at his proper measure. He excults in Chaos & Old Night-who are, also, the idols of the field of battle, especially when the “field” is a labyrinthine cacaphonous metropolis. Neither does he lack in spirits-though they be those allready alluded to. The Great God Hashich is most certainly one of them.
Without Gordon Ashe, &, most especially! Poor brave Chesspiece Kingforce (his proper English name)not only would you be without the, admittedly dubious, pleasure of this missive; but antique Bombay Herself would have been entirely overrun by foreigners. I, myself, made the mistake of applying reason to a land sodden with the tears of Aristotles great disciple. The Internal Alchymy under The Rose, commands in the Language of the Birds, even, though not absoloutely, the Invisible Pyramid hastily erected from mortal minds-none of them sufficed: the latter merely granted that which blind mortality calls my “life”.
The titular Prince was mad, you see. One can wield the Mesmeric fluid of the protodelugians; a madman does not obey sanely, nontheless. Whether it was Providental that I replaced it with the sap of Hypnos-blooms, Providence only knows. The Thing With Six Limbs that took him might well have been dethroned princely reason, fleshed by his own mesmeric arts, & poppy-milk. Shallow is the peace of that thought. “For in that sleep of death what dreams may come / When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, / Must give us pause.” I was dragged to safety, apparently: can safety in these nights be anything more than apparent?
That Blackthorne, &, of course, Mistress Thomas, did not present themselves to quell that lord of misrule shoould be of no suprise. She made a jolly fine mess of things, actually: could just as well have gobbled him up right away, & saved us the trouble. We should fit Mistress Thomas into The Pyramid, under by preference no less than admantine building blocks: we can not afford whateer it is she be now.
Oh, & Bombay seems to be invaded by monkey-men? Rather suggestive, considering the motif of our previous native troubles. Yet again, we come upon idols in the dusk.

Bound to your service by Internal Chymestry,
“a small unleavened, undefiled Cake”

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Bombay burning

What a night. There is magic in the air tonight. The whole city has gone crazy. Sounds like a kindred who are using his power. Strangely I did not feel anything?

I went to see the prince early tonight with Alice, just after we arrived to Bombay. There was a large mob walking towards the mausoleum, but we got there first, me in jaguar form and alice just running like hell. The prince was alone and he was not drugged this night. He talked about Troja again and what part he should play in this. Alice seem to be the only one to really connect to him. But she seem to favor him going against the empire? After that he went outside and talked to the mob. Used his powers and let the mob towards the british fort. Alice went with him, but I stayed behind.

Here I met the real prince, rahj ashiquz. He was trying to blow up the mausoleum. It was time to release the caged beast as he said. Guess that was why he was not drugged. Rahj wanted to destroy the prince’s heaven. He did not believe the prince would survive this night (he do know alot about the future). So he wanted to destroy the Mausoleum so that when people heard the prince was gone and his heaven destroyed, they would assume it was here he had gone missing. As least that was what he told me. I think there is more to it.

I talked to him about who was going to be the next prince. Saying the the british would get here with more troops and more kindred. An that the court of london wanted a european prince in Bombay. So I suggested he supported one of the locals (the group I came with). Better the enemy you know. Do not know if he even considered it. There was a lot of big issues this night. He is very difficult to read.

After our talk he left the mausoleum, saying some of his Hindu nonsence about not doing anything just hoping faith was kind, etc. hoping I would do it. I found a lamp near a line of gunpowder going to some boxes of gunpower. I encountered rahj just as I pick up the lamp. I desided to play along. I do not know his agenda, but I guess he would find a way to get the mausoleum destroyed no matter what I did. But before that I seach the entire mausoleum.

I did not find anything breathtaking, just some old stuff from alexandros. I picked up some as a souvenier and left the mausoleum (putting the lamp where I found it). Soon after the mausoleum was blown up.

After that I turned myself into a falcon and flew over the city. All was chaos. The Indians was attacking the British forces all over town. I tried to find Alexandros. He was near the gates. The indians near him just charged the british with no regard for their own life. So even with their superior firepower, the British could not stop the indians from getting into Melee. It was a bloody fight. Alexandros himself was in the center of the fighting killing left and right. I circled the area watching what was going on. I did not involve myself in the fighting. I had done my duty for the empire long ago. This was a fight for the humans.

The british started to withdraw from the gates and go back to their fort. Alexandros did not follow. He stayed behind as if he could feel something was wrong. Suddenly a person with four arms leapt from the shadows and attacked the prince. Did we have allies in the city we did not know? The fight was quickly covered in a darkness that even I could not see though. The magic darkness stayed for a minute and then was gone as soon as it had arrived. There was no trace of the prince or the assailant. But after that the spirit went out of the attack. The indians had suffered enourmous casulties and now their moral was breaking. They where no longer attacking without regard for their lifes and did quickly stopped the attack. The british could safely go back to their fort.

All was quiet and yet not. The anger was still there. Wonder if it will be there tomorrow. Can see the light on the horizon. Time to embrace mother earth.

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A Line in the Sand ...

‘Yes Sir – I DO believe it to be of paramount importance to give a show of force’ … having swayed the senior military commander of Delhi to his point of view Gordon quickly issued a string of commands to rouse the garrison, immediately make ready for the on-watch company of English infantry in combination of a company of Sepoys to depart under the command of Gordon himself to ‘put some bayonets on the streets … ‘ – with the remaining force bar one company to follow as soon as they could be formed up and to bring along a detachment of the light grasshopper guns … incase the natives should be in need of a whiff of grapeshot …

Field guns

Marching quickly – at double pace – towards the south gate, leading out to the burial district, where according to information agitated… restless natives were gathering – the 2 companies marched through the streets, the crowds of streetpedlers parting pulling hesitantly back while staring in none too friendly a manner with calls and the occasional stone hurled towards the column, seeming to be particularly aimed at the marching sepoys … – an unsettling …agitated feeling …like a volatile energy seeming to be felt in the warmth of the night …perhaps just the heat …perhaps just the fact that it was a long time since it had rained … perhaps …though every man marching that night could feel it in his bones… ‘something was up’

Thinking that he should cover the open squares controlling the major intersections and not entirely trusting his Sepoys to really open fire on the locals if it came to that …or rather not entirely trusting the locals to NOT question …that the Sepoys really would fire upon them… Gordon detached 2 of his Sepoy platoons to cover the two major squares they marched towards the gate … deploying a show of force on each square controlling the major boulevards would hopefully be enough to deter any unrest – not that Gordon really believed any unrest would be serious and a small part … well maybe not THAT small … hoped for an opportunity to show the locals …these cattle where they belonged in the ranking of nations (foodchain) …

Coming up to the gate …a huge square opened up infront of them …filled with a big seething mob of ‘brown people’ – ‘3rd Sepoy platoon DEPLOY LEFT’ – ‘2nd Sepoy platoon DEPLOY RIGHT’ – 1st thought 3th Fusiliers form a double line and push them back, 4th form the reserve and 5th keep the road backwards open ….

With his men forming up …Gordon stepped out infront about to urge the crowd to retreat or risk violence at their own peril – when a scream, a roar, a angry bussing maelstrom of a noise raised itself from the crowd as it turned towards the brittish line …moving slowly at first …then surging with a roar like the sea …
Infantry fire

Interrupted just as he was about to address the crowd ‘… Men of Indi’- Gordon quickly seized up the situation, stepping back in line …raising his voice to the troops … First line, Fire at my Command …Ready-Aim-FIRE !!!

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The statue of Hanuman
assamite, tremer, hanuman, chalice

15th June 1857

Going back to Bombay. There is nothing more to gain by staying at the former Tremer Chantry.

It seems the local tremer removed a Chalice from a statue of Harnuman in the jungle and took it back to their chantry. Later the guardian of the Chalice, a kindred Assamite ran through a wall in the Chantry and killed the tremers in a battle. Funny enough the guardian did not find the stolen Chalice and continued to run around looking for the Chalice.

The assimite (Marmaduke’s magic confirmed he was an assimite, this also match his powers) had no face and could not see, hear or smell anything. Not much of a guardian. Sounds like a joke, but Hanuman was a prankster in some of the buddist myths.

Did the guardian ran into the chantry by accident or was he led to the Chantry? I smelled him in the Chantry so I am sure he was there. Alice captured him. She seem to be quite good at befriending strange creatures. I had him under observation for some time and he seem to be oblivious of most that happened around him unless it happened only a few feet from him. Do not think he was faking it. We also found his child and he also fumbled around.

The locals had a legend about a demon without face that came and punished those that had angered Hanuman. Wonder if the legend was build on the guardian or somebody made a kindred after the legend?

The guardian was quite powerfull so he was no fledgeling. But how long could he have lived under the statue of Hanuman? Living only to feed, sleep and waiting for somebody to steal the chalice. This would eventually drive anybody insane. But assamites are a fanatic bunch. If anyone could do it, it would be one of them. And the duty was very important to the guardian. He even made a child when he started looking for the chalice, as to make sure that the legend of the faceless demon could continue even if he was destroyed in the hunt. The child was only a few days old when we found him. The guardian most have removed the face from the poor man before embracing him. That way the kindred would be born with those features.

Anyway the tremer are dead and the Chalice is now back on the Statue. Our guide offered a boon to me if I would give the Chalice back to the guardian. Always good to have a boon with some of the local setites. I always run into problems with the damn snakes!!! Hopefully if this would happen here in India too, I could use the boon to get out of trouble. If we need the Chalice, it would also be no problem to come back and take it again. When the Chalice is removed from the Statue , the hiding place of the guardian will open. But if you place something of about the same weight as the Chalice then this will not happen. The guardian would not find out the chalice was gone before he needed to feed. By then he would never be able to track me down if I did not stay in the locale area. But have a strange feeling about this. If the Chalice is important enough for a kindred to dedicate his life to guarding it. Then the true master of the Chalice would probably have other ways to find it. I know that assamite sorceres can find kindred by magic. So if you have studied the Chalice it would not be impossible to find it by magic.

The tremer leader had written alot about the faceless. Unfortunately his writings is all in spanish and my spanish is not that good. Would be nice to read the results of the tremers studies. Maybe this could also tell me more about the Chalice. But this will have to wait. Also have to find somebody I can trust to translate the chantry leaders notes.

Our guide had some warnings that Bombay is burning this evening so we ….

The other are ready to go for Bombay now. They are calling.

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The Curse of Hanuman

As later remembered and retold by Shahrukh Rajaprajna.

I long suspected some greater power at work in the attack on the temple of the western dabblers. Ah, Shiva, i even tried to warn them – this was obviously not the work of some ordinary feud – in the ruins of the temple i could feel the echoes of the attack – an ecstasy of holy destruction…

The priest stared at me, obviously blessed in the eyes of Shiva as well as Hanuman, his limbs falling apart as a sign of his acceptance of the impermanence of all conventional ritual forms. Still, a mere man. This mortal chant-peddler would bow before the might of a true Brahmin!
Then, again, i felt the presence of the gods, an oppressive yet playful force causing my Divine Presence to sputter and turn into the mutterings of a simple mortal.

The God is truly angry this time, this is not the dream-whispers of long-sleeping spirits, i could feel the very presence of Hanuman before me. Just as was making proper obeisance, the meddling wizard i am escorting around our holy land has the temerity to disturb this sacred communion. In my rage, i called upon the Visage of Kali. Let him know true fear. Perhaps then, he will learn not to reach above his station.
Yet, the God was still present, and I, too, was reaching above my station. This time, my very essence seemed to collapse in upon itself, the empty shell of my will and presence revealing themselves as the dreams they are.
Indeed, all this world is but the play of light in a lake, and the true nature of all the world cares not for our little conventions. With the true humility of pride i ejected the pale worm from the temple and received the will of Hanuman.

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Out & back again

Where the H …did she go, his eyes scanning for her even as he had to keep an eye on the path ahead, the soles of his boots beating rhythmically against the hard dirt of the path as he was pushing his body beyond its mortal bounds jumping and dodging branches and even a small fence. Finally catching sight of her up ahead, why the H … did she run off like that, young women – even of their sort …It just wasn’t propor –

Jungle2

Coming around a bend in the path, he almost bumped into her – managing to pull up just enough to not bawl right over her lithe frame Gordon came to a stop … – Crashing through the bushes, nimbly dodging around a tree as he quickly changed his direction to cut across the broken ground at breathtaking speed – she had lifted her head, her brown eyes locking his gaze in theirs – a feeling as if being sucked into their warm depth … stopping in midstride as if suddenly being blinded by a sharp light, narrowly avoiding running headfirst into a big impressive sort of Elm’ish looking tree … Looking into her eyes had felt like …like …even now thinking about it almost made him feel dizzy, like a sensation after having been flushed down a drain or something … Shaking his head, seeing the village in front of him – Gordon once again reversed his step and sped of towards the jungle …

 

Walking back towards the village in carefully measured steps – feeling the urge in his heart, the surging desire for blood, to scream in outrage at the humiliation, to vanquish to overcome this…this blind one who dared humiliate him so –  to let go …to smash ….to destroy … – yet he was also dangerous ….Gordon clenched his jaw, he must not let go – there was a time for action and time for caution … as for bloodhunger and revealing his feeling of impotence… well…

Village hut2 - his path having taken him in between some low hovels – Gordon stopped infront of a low doorway, outside a line with a tattered shirt was stretched from one hovel to the next …a hammer and chisel lying next to a stool –‘clothing and tools’ the very things separating humans from animals …civilization from barbarism – with a sneer and glint of his fangs Gordon smashed in the wooden door …
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Voice

The girl is too much trouble. Are you even aware that I can hear you?
Restraint is as foreign to her as the customs of this far away place is to the British.
If she continues to stab every problem in the eye, Sometimes stabbing is the only way to make people listen, I wish I could stab You I may have to dispose of her and find a more suitable Agent.
So far the only casualty have been an elephant, Poor thing, why is it always the innocent that dies first? I hope the soulrider of that beast did not suffer to severely a backlash. But still, I need her to find out what happens here, not go pick fights with Brujah. I do not pick fights, sometimes I just loose control – it’s a condition
At least she managed not to get killed by the Assamite-spawned faceless monstrosity, I wonder who holds its leash and what purpose it serves so far away from civilization? And why create something so deformed and stunted, it just seems cruel – and ineffective
- A Guardian of the chalice perhaps, but why?
And what of the chalise itself, does it hold power, or is it merely some religious artefact revered by simple Hindoo? At least the thing rests now that the chalice is back
If only I could control her more directly, it would be much simpler. Getting answers and cooperation from an Usurper will be difficult enough without throwing dung at the back of his head… Sigh, but he is such a bore
Surely some Ancients hand is in all this, but whom and why? Mystery upon mystery, wrapped in cotton and spiced with curry, it could drive a person mad… Says the voice in my head…
The Gangrel could be a good resource as well, but he plays his cards close to the vest. The girl I have a name you know, but then again you cannot hear me and do not seem to care would be wise to gain his confidence – their kind are also good to have at your back should things turn sour. And he seems nice
What I cannot fathom is why she does not destroy the Viper immediately, only youthful naivity can explain why you would let one of their kind exist. No matter how useful he may seem, his kind must be destroyed lest they destroy you and all you have worked for. By Viper I assume you mean our guide. I will not kill him Thomas, he may be our best chance of getting to the bottom of the real mystery here – to find out about the Eye of Shiva
Now it is back to something akin to Civilization, I must be on the lookout for another Agent, though the chances are slim of finding one suitable in this place. Stop pretending that you can get rid of me, it is I that is getting rid of you, Specter

I may have to endure her, at least until we reach Europe again. Arrrr Shut Up, I feel like hitting something, or perhaps stabbing it – repeatedly

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Voice

The girl is too much trouble. Are you even aware that I can hear you?
Restraint is as foreign to her as the customs of this far away place is to the British.
If she continues to stab every problem in the eye, Sometimes stabbing is the only way to make people listen, I wish I could stab You I may have to dispose of her and find a more suitable Agent.
So far the only casualty have been an elephant, Poor thing, why is it always the innocent that dies first? I hope the soulrider of that beast did not suffer to severely a backlash. But still, I need her to find out what happens here, not go pick fights with Brujah. I do not pick fights, sometimes I just loose control – it’s a condition
At least she managed not to get killed by the Assamite-spawned faceless monstrosity, I wonder who holds its leash and what purpose it serves so far away from civilization? And why create something so deformed and stunted, it just seems cruel – and ineffective
- A Guardian of the chalice perhaps, but why?
And what of the chalise itself, does it hold power, or is it merely some religious artefact revered by simple Hindoo? At least the thing rests now that the chalice is back
If only I could control her more directly, it would be much simpler. Getting answers and cooperation from an Usurper will be difficult enough without throwing dung at the back of his head… Sigh, but he is such a bore
Surely some Ancients hand is in all this, but whom and why? Mystery upon mystery, wrapped in cotton and spiced with curry, it could drive a person mad… Says the voice in my head…
The Gangrel could be a good resource as well, but he plays his cards close to the vest. The girl I have a name you know, but then again you cannot hear me and do not seem to care would be wise to gain his confidence – their kind are also good to have at your back should things turn sour. And he seems nice
What I cannot fathom is why she does not destroy the Viper immediately, only youthful naivity can explain why you would let one of their kind exist. No matter how useful he may seem, his kind must be destroyed lest they destroy you and all you have worked for. By Viper I assume you mean our guide. I will not kill him Thomas, he may be our best chance of getting to the bottom of the real mystery here – about the Eye of Shiva
Now it is back to something akin to Civilization, I must be on the lookout for another Agent, though the chances are slim of finding one suitable in this place. Stop pretending that you can get rid of me, it is I that is getting rid of you, Specter

I may have to endure her, at least until we reach Europe again. Arrrr Shut Up, I feel like hitting something, or perhaps stabbing it – repeatedly

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Shiva report

Fellow Consummators of the Rosy Wedding:
A DOOM has fallen upon the Chantry of Bombay, entire, Chryses’ daughters ravishment yet again avenged. Consider this, even as broader & haply roseate changes abound: that the arms of this particular vindictive deity was no shining silver bow, rather, an intricate device, victims of blind superstition, & conspiracy most base: the deity itself, not lucid Apollo, but an Hindhoo ape demon idol, as was the visage inflicted on our Mercury in abominable Aegypt.
Monkey business, not yet fully brought to Phobic sunlight.
Hence, I ought to be the new Chantry Regent.
One is quite aware that such precipitous advancement is not quite the done thing; nevertheless, one can not help but to note that the local Camarilla is, well, me & my Coterie: that the titular local Prince, is a Ravnos so unsuited to worldly pursuits that he leaves them entirely to native vizirs, of Tremere knows what unCamarillan bloodline; & the unlikelihood that anyone else of our “Clan” (that unfortunate gaelicism!) will volunteer for the job, given current conditions.
You will be happy to hear that one has come upon one useful resource, at least-a fellow partaker of the VII Loaves of Rosy Bread, Gordon Ash, officer in Her Majesty’s armed service, who is also martially prominent on a personal basis. He is open to negotiations-if you see fit to grant me the wherewithal for them, that is. He seems very much more suited to decisive & fragrantly sanguine deeds than anyone else around-also to the degree that, should you be base & mercyful enough, he can also make for an apt scapegoat.
Not that you, Oh Fraternal Sub Roseates, will believe it, but one still feels obliged to note that one joined this expedition expediently to avoid all that Machiavellian nonsense; a promotion, especially during what might well be a full-scale Sabbat invasion; episodes of horrific death by torture, or, worse, mental ravishment, aside; does not exactly allow for devoted, impartial study.
Ah, well:
“All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.”
Eh?

Bound to your service by Internal Chymestry,
“a small unleavened, undefiled Cake”

P.S: The Bedlamites are up to their tricks again. Their representative in our Coterie, Mistress Thomas, is not only a Lady; but devotes her Ladylike resolve to strikingly apt ends. She even speaks the local lingo. Bears looking into?

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Chapter 2 - Thinning the Herd

They were coming down the road, Gordon just having had a conversation with the good doctor about how the natives needed to be taught a lesson in respect for not only her Majesty’s property but especially her person – It just wouldn’t do to allow these savages to one day smash a picture of Queen Victoria, who knew what they might assume to do next?!

Coming around a bend in the road, Gordon trotting on this horse while the others rode the big elephant, they spotted a small group of Indian Sepoys wearing dirty uniforms and not a white man in sight – Trotting up towards them, Gordon called out ‘_Hoy – Where’s your Officer!! …and put down those arms – Im Brittish, can’t you clots tell!! I should have you’all whipped!!_’ …

After a moment of hesitation, cut through by the harsh voice of their veteran sergeant – the sepoys promptly replied by firing a salvo, the shots hitting Gordon squarely in his chest throwing him from his horse … The Sepoys cocksure smiles suddenly vanishing, being replaced amazement as the English officer picks himself up once again commanding them to throw down their arms as he strides towards them – Once again the retort is a salvo, the Sepoys eyes growing wide with shock as the English officer seems to walk unscathed right through the shots – two of the men have the presence to draw their tulwars to meet the English officers slow measure charge…

Gordon felt the thud of their bullits hit him in the chest at the same time as hearing the discharge of their guns, smoke pouring out obscuring their position for a moment until it was cleared away by the gentle breeze … How dare they – Shoot at an English Officer … Shoot at a Kindred ! Gordon could feel his blood boiling, he would teach this cattle better, teach them …with a smile he stepped in between the two Sepoys rushing out to meet him, their Tulwars drawn. Taking a surprise step forward, right into the step of one of the rightmost approaching Sepoy, easily dodging the feeble swing from his compatriot, taking him in the shoulder with a quick strike from his saber, the blade seemingly cutting through muscle, tendons and ribcage as if cutting through butter …taking another quick step bringing him around the first soldiers momentum, Gordon smiled a cold smile at the remaining soldiers – even as his blade made a casual backhand slash neatly cutting in through the his kidney and cutting the spine on the way out …

Gordon

Seeing the remaining cattle… soldiers … scatter before him, running from the terror, the officer who could not be killed … seeing the soldiers run as if the damned was on their heels, Gordon carefully picked up a dropped musket weighing it in his hand before hurling it at the form of the former Sepoy sergeant just as he was about to make it to the thickets of the forest edge … striking him squarely in the back, the momentum of the impact carrying him forward, flinging him into a tree with the bayoneted barrel of the riffle having struck through his ribcage pinning him neatly with his feat dangling 10’’ of the ground.

Feeling his blood being up, laughing inside – looking around desperately hoping for more opponents, any opponents to show themselves – to be smashed – to know his superiority … With an effort Gordon manages to calm down – retracting his canines … as he looks back towards his compatriots … A frown of puzzlement creasing his frow as he sees the elephant keel over … ‘What in God’s Name?’

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