The Secret Diary of Leonor Faustino

Day 1 (technically Session 2, but the first session was typical Alexander “Doom and Merriment” Amodol trolling so it doesn’t count)

Dear diary,

Today proved what I have always believed. I’m destined for greatness.

Only, as it turns out, I didn’t have to go to grad school and plunge into crippling student debt to do it! It was in me all along. While religion might be the opiate of the masses, maybe I’ve been approaching it all wrong. Magic is real, after all. Why not the rest of it?

“This revelation has been baptized.” Remember those words forever, future self. In that moment. My (our? addressing yourself is weird.) destiny was revealed. Today, I learned that I was Blooded.

As you’ll recall from your term paper from Professor Constantine’s Extracontinental Faiths and Practices seminar, the Blooded are the upper ruling caste of the Sangrel theocracy. Supposedly descended from the only beings worthy of ruling humanity, they were in touch with the ley lines of the earth (note to self: see if you can dig up the paper you co-authored with Sebastian on how religious cultures incorporate geography), etc etc.

Apparently, I’m one of them. Not bad from a kid from the suburbs descended from an accountant and a housewife, eh?

Now, while I still approach religion with all of a true scholar’s detachment, magic talks and bullshit walks. Clerical magic is still magic, and the divination spell cast on us (alas, I wasn’t the only candidate; the people I had in my dream the other night are apparently real but not terribly spectacular) had all the syntax of an arcane divination spell, just a strange accent probably flavored by a Sangrel religious perspective, was the real deal.

While I (and the other five from my dream) were along those revealed as Blooded, the bloody revelations didn’t end there. Two candidates started bleeding from every orifice (well played not taking that Bleed hex that Dangernoodle suggested) and turned on us.

Oh, did I mention that one of those failed candidates was Yemoot (Michael? Manuel? Mario? Eh, I forget his name) from that Constantine seminar? At first I was shocked that that intellectual nonentity was on my level, but I guess I can’t say that I’m too surprised that he bombed this exam.

Yemoot got a taste of my first Misfortune hex. It felt good, though it would have felt better if I had gotten it off before Josephine (red hair, wicked armor, no bullshit attitude: I can appreciate a badass because someone has to do the punching) started duking it out with him.

Something to look into later: Yemoot managed to yank his bleeding heart out and use it as a grenade. Did a lot of damage to that dogooder Jamian, but he also took out the bloody underachiever with one good crack of a police baton. (Not in time to take out a know-it-all dwarf, but meh. Gotta get those notes on the secret rune that revealed our Blooded nature when I get the chance.) Like I said, I can appreciate a frontline fighter ready to do my dirty work.

Speaking of which, remember to ask Ryker who has a stick up their ass now. Once I burned through my offensive arcane arsenal, I cast Resistance on him because it doesn’t hurt to suck up to the dude with the gun.  (Or maybe don’t. Save it for an opportune time.)

The battle was bloody, the dwarf girl who was chosen (not bothering with that unspellable name) couldn’t even get off a Daze cantrip without failing — while my Ear Piercing Scream went out without a fucking hitch — to save her life or ours, and the brute force fighters did well enough. The monk whose name sounds enough like Ryker’s that I’m gonna get them constantly confused dealt some pretty sick looking punches and a wicked elbow. The other highlights of the fighty types, I’ve already mentioned.

Ryker should probably work on his aim and get used to the fact that he’s got a noisy gun, though.

“This revelation has been baptized.” My liminal period is over. My destiny has begun.

I am so ready for this.