The Prince ......

The audience hall was still. No one spoke. All eyes were on the Prince and the visitor.
The prince smiled, and the court knew what was coming.
Rising, he strode down to the visitors level.
"Tell me, my good doctor, do you know what happens to those who cause me displeasure within my domain?" He stared him in the eyes.
Back straight, gulping out of habit, the relativly young kindred replied,
"I do not, but I can imagine that it is not pleasant."
There was a pregnant pause, and ...
The prince laughed! The court was in shock. During the time they had known him, none had ever heard him laugh, ...and survived.
"That is good, that is very good, herr Doctor. I believe I may even like you."
With that the Tzimisce Anttriube touched the doctor on the shoulders, then returned to his thrown.
"Thankyou, Prince Gharm."
"Go in peace, and stay as long as you like. Do visit again." The Ventrue Doctor bowed, and moved to leave, and found that it was ...uncomfortable. Feeling the need to shed his jacket, he found that...he had wings. {Masterful. Only one of his power and age, could cause this delayed and unnoticed.}
"Do you like your wings, my good doctor?"
"...Thankyou, my Prince. For your ...gift."
He smiled at him, and nodded that he may go.
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"Senchenal. Attend me." The prince spoke.
Immediatly, a man stepped up to his side. His appearence, cold and analytical.
"Yes, my Lord." The Prince gazed upon his True Brujah Senchenal. {Such a rare find.}
"If anyone else has need of my judgement, you handle it for this evening. I have every faith in your judgement." "As you command, my Lord."
Rising, the Prince spoke thus, "I bid you all a good night, I have other matters to attend to, my Senchenal shall speak for me in my absence."
With that, he strode forth through the doors, which attendents opend for him, and out into the hall.
Shortly thereafter, a Setite arrived.
"Greetings...I have come to announce myself. Where is the prince?"
The Senchenal raised an eyebrow, as he sat upon the seat next to the thrown.
"I speak for him, this night. State your business in this domain, who you are, and what your clan is."
"I am Wilford Rudgress, I a Malkavian, who simply wishes to stay within your great city for a few nights."
"Indeed." He nodded to a ghoul.
"Then this should be but a minor inconvience."
The ghoul turned on a light that would be used in a stage play.
It illuminated the kindred, who hissed and drew his cloak about his face.
"This court does not abide deception against it."
"Blast you."
"Sieze him, perhaps a few nights in the dungeon shall make him speak the truth. His fare,...rats."
"As you say." The Ventrue Templar knight strode forth, and seized the Setite by the arm.
"You are coming with me."
He suddenly was holding an empty cloth.
A large snake was making its way from where the prisoner had stood towards the door.
{This is not going according to plan at all!}
A sword suddenly pinned the snake to the floor.
"Not so fast, serpent."
It reared and prepared to strike.
"If you will not abide by our rules, and respect this court, then you shall burn."
With that the Senchenal tossed a torch onto the snake, and watched as it shrieked and burned.
Then he returned to the chair appointed to him,
"Next."
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Prince Gharm retreated to his sanctuary, and called out,
"I am home, I desire drink."
A throng of ghouls mewled at his feet.
"Drink from me!" "No me!" "I'm kinda thirsty myself."
He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. The new recruit is ...very modern.
He gestured for her to come closer. He looked in her eyes and said,
"You will feed, when I choose to feed you."
"Yes master."
"You may feed."
He slit his arm, and let her drink. He looked up at him as she fed.
"enough." She kept drinking.
His eyes narrowed.
She pulled a stake out, but fortunately, in his years, he picked up some Celerity.
One moment, she yanked back her stake, the next, she found herself the one impaled.
She gasped.
"Who compromised you? Answer me, or by the Cursed Apollo, I will have one of those Necromancers bring you back to find out."
She looked around, eyes wide...and gurgled, then said,
"Maximus..."
Then she expired.
Straightening, the Prince decided he needs to have ...words with the new Toreador Primogen. {Perhaps words laced with torture tools....}