One year had passed since Veronique had become Prince of New York, and not everything was calm. Rumors of the Sabbat were rampant, and the Brujah, angered by the snubbing at the rise of Veronique last year, were throwing shit around, causing a wide variety of Anarchy.

The Tremere Denver Hammersmith, once a key member of Benedict's supporters, couldn't bring himself into New York City proper, as caused by Derek Fleming and his unholy pact.

It was a Toreador event where everything came together. The Toreador Revue -- a group of young Toreador -- were hosting a gathering where they would judge a new artist. This artist was different -- a Ravnos named Fabian Ashley. Ashley had been working for years upon a masterpiece, as he called it, which would prove that he did, in fact, belong. The Toreador were skeptical and planned on mocking him at length.

The matter was taken out of their hands when Toreador master deMedici Zaragossa announced he would be making an appearance and making a judgment about the piece himself. The Toreador Revue would be obligated to follow Zaragossa's judgment or risk his disfavor.

At the gathering, Hammersmith and a handful of goons from the Connecticut Chantry showed up, to everyone's suprise (except Fleming). For the first hour of the evening, the Tremere were sequestered in a room by themselves, perhaps discussing their differences.

Zaragossa arrived, with his own work of art. He unveiled it, and all the Toreador found themselves fascinated and unable to pull away until their view was obscured. None of them had the ability to put what they had seen in words, but they were certainly affected.

It came Atchley's turn to unveil his art, but upon unveiling, it was non-existent. It had been stolen. Zaragossa merely raised an eyebrow, and the Ravnos left in shame.

The Tremere discovered that the reason they were allowed back into New York was that the ritual had been interrupted. Someone (or something) had stolen one of the foci that had kept the ritual in place, and the contract was no longer upheld. Problem being, the door that Fleming had opened was still open.

The "masterwork" that Zaragossa had brought was not, in fact, that. It was the focus that Fleming had used to seal the pact. The item was of such a persuasion that whatever one was first told it was, it appeared to be (and, indeed, functioned as) for that person. Derek Fleming was told it was an incredible focus of magical energy, the Toreador were all told it was a wonderful object of art.

It turned out that Zaragossa was not, in fact, the Toreador Master, but an elder Nosferatu in disguise. He had been contracted to steal the focus (he was not told the nature of the item, but had been able to deduce it). He had brought it here tonight to sell it.

The Tremere worked together to come up with a plan. It turned out that the demon Metolicious had taken posession of the body of one of Fleming's younger Tremere, a chap named Archibald. They figured if they found someone (they had a ghoul chauffer they were going to use) and told him it could banish the demon, it could. So, they set about to doing it, but....

Grendel had stolen the item. Apparently, someone had stolen Grendel's boat and he wanted it back. Until I got my goddamn motherfucking sonuvabitch boat back, New York can go to fucking Hell if that's where this is taking us. The Tremere quickly figured out who stole the boat, killed the moron, and retook the item before the demon Metolicious could finish coming through the door, which would happen at midnight.

Once the item was handed to the chauffer, the ghoul did as instructed and hurled it at the posessed Kindred. All vanished with a trace. The Tremere were distraught for losing the artifact, but happy with the fact that the demon was gone. Hammersmith bundled up Fleming and sent him off to Vienna, irritated by his creation of the ritual. Vienna sent him back, saying "Has potential. Keep an eye on this one."

Forward to Recap of 1997 game.