<Conrad> retrieves his sword-cane from the corner of his room and draws the blade. For a moment he stands there and admires the craftmanship, the blade is razor sharp and durable, but with just the right amount of flexibility. When time allowed, he would have to find a way to reward the woman for her work, the pittance she had charged him was not nearly enough. Conrad turns his

attention to the task at hand and takes a breath, unnecessary of course, but the action helps to steady his nerves as he slices open his forearm. He grunts in pain and flexes his hand several times, using the action and force of will to draw his blood to the wound. He coats the blade in the blood, smearing it evenly across the steel, then assumes a meditative posture and begins the

incantation. The blood gradually draws itself into a single spot as he chants, then begins swirling across the surface of the blade as it is absorbed into the metal. By the time Conrad has finished, a red glyph is all that remains of the blood. It seems to be a part of the blade rather than sitting on the surface, he scratches at it and can feel no place where his nail catches. The mystic

energies are not fully active yet, that will happen over the course of the night as the vitae attunes itself, but he is satisfied with the work. He forces more blood to his wound and begins again, this time enchanting the handle, and after that the cane-sheath. “Well, that takes care of Ghouls. Now for shifters.” He nods and then grabs a small jar off of his desk. Inside is several

handfuls of silver dust. It had been suprisingly easy to acquire, he’d simply ‘appropriated’ a few pieces of jewelry from one of his meals, and then had one of the more handy Tremere ghouls grind it down with a belt sander and collect the dust in the jar. Of course, the ghoul had kept some as a sort of tithe to his master, which Conrad considered a fair trade. Conrad lays out some foil

and sets the weapon down upon it, sprinkling the dust over all three parts and beginning the incanation again. The ritual was mostly the same, with a few key parts altered so that the ward would attune itself to the silver and shifters, rather than vitae and ghouls. A second glyph appears on each part, the bright silver standing in stark contrast to the deep red of the first. “Much

better. Once I’ve got a bit more mastery under my belt I’ll get you warded against other Kindred, and you’ll start to be a real force to reckon with.” He smiles and carefully sheaths the blade and places it on a stand above the head of his bed before opening a book and settling in to continue his studies.