Journey to Reykjavic

She had given me the task of finding my way to Reykjavic, what is now the Capital of Iceland to meet her once more. Stupid really. I could of simply hitched a straight boat from where I was. But instead I headed South towards Stockholm. I was near, Sundsvall, over 150miles away with nobody to guide me. This was the real test of survival.
This was where my second meeting with the ‘Garou’ came into play. Little did I know after the accidental murder of an Elder Silver Fang, in self defence may I add. They had placed me on a ‘wanted’ list. I was to be hunted. Killed at all costs and those dishonourable beasts didn’t even warn me.
It was a cold night, freezing to human beings as I curled the long coat around my body. Looking like nothing more then a travelling monk. Small satchel at my side. My feet carrying my over the soft snow of the ground, with a ‘squish’ as I placed the long wooden staff into the ground, using it as leverage as I walked fourth. Feet never tiring until I heard the ‘howl’ off in the distance. Like a rattle of thunder rolling fourth over the snow. Like the gods had arisen once more. I won’t deny it. I was scared. I was terrified that a pack of Lupine’s would be on my tail any moment now. Lucky for me it was just one.
He stood tall. Strong. His physical prowess was like none I had ever seen before. Muscle structure reminiscent of The Hulk. Only he was silver not green. Long fur combed back as a cloth came down covering his loins. Another howl pushed fourth as I froze. Scared. Fearful of the beast that towered over me. As he leapt forward. Claws outstretched as his swiped fourth. The staff I held in my hand darting up fourth as he connected with it. Shattering the wood.
I did the only thing I knew I could…I forced blood through my system as I turned to run from him. My feet hitting heavily down on the floor. ‘Squishing’ and ‘squashing’ as my movements carried me towards the lining of trees I could see in the distance. His claws coming down as he neared me. The slash as they ripped the lining at the back of my cloak. Grazing my skin, but I was lucky once more. The shot narrowly missed. As I felt my limbs begin to change. My clothes drifting away as feathers began to emerge. They where the colour of midnight as finally my limbs changed. A claw swooped past as my wings fluttered. I was that of the corvos corax. The Raven. As I heard the howl once more. Felt the warmth of the beasts breath as I escaped from him. The encounter far from over.
I kept in my flight form for the rest of the night. I used it to cover as much land as possible. And I won’t deny it felt much better. I felt safe within the air. Free from the labour of the land.
My routine remained the same. I flew down gully, over valley, along great pastures as I could watch the snow slowly drift away into the summer months. It was truly an amazing sight back then. Cities where scarce and far apart. People didn’t travel, it was the end of a Mythic age. Where magicians walked along side by man. Where great battles where confronted face to face. But now? This world is getting worse. The antediluvians will one day rise. But that is a different story. For a different time.
In little over a week I had covered enough ground to finally get to the capital of Sweden, Stockholm. In this harsh wilderness, fit for only the Gangrel, Stockholm would be a crucial building block for the Camarilla. Pre-1700’s Sweden was a powerful Military force and Stockholm was an important port of trade. Now, in the modern nights they still hold control of it.
Rachel had taught me of the traditions. She taught me the ‘laws’ of the Camarilla. The foolish laws they used to protect us from another Inquisition. Little did they know then or now that was started by are own kind. Vengeance for a murder. The Lasombra where always predominant in the Church and thanks to that they lost their footing.
My stay in Stockholm was not most welcome. I met the Prince of the time, although I do not remember the meeting. I introduced myself and to say the least. ‘I wasn’t welcome or loved’. But my journey was forced from this point. I had to leave Stockholm for a fresh place.
I had a little money. Nothing major but well in Stockholm I had earned enough to earn me passage on a boat that a vampire owned. He used it for his own kind. IT was expensive, but quick and easy. The journey was different to my earlier years of voyaging. The whole time was spent in coffins well Ghoul’s would move around the ship and feed. We departed the ship at what is now part of Russia, Kaliningard.
The rest of the journey was almost uneventful, he travelled from where he was towards England. London, then to Liverpool where he would be able to catch another boat. Another of the kindred’s set-up runs as Vincent slept the remainder of the Journey. Finally arriving and tracking Rachel down.