An unfamiliar logo replaces Ando's weather forecast for the next tenday, to be repaced by the image of a tall, grim looking man.



The man smiles, but the smile doesn't reach his dark, hard eyes.

"I'll make this short. My name is Garik Lord Vordarian, head of House Darian. Tremere, the House of Darian does not support your empty claims to the leadership of our world. As for your so-called 'election'... pray tell us which clans, if any, voted you into office."

He leaned slightly forward. "House Darian stands with the House of Jackson in denouncing you as a fraud. And your answer to Lord Jackson made me laugh. I did not realize there was an even bigger cretin than the usurper Bonias around. Did the Tremere lack the funds to acquire proper telbuns and had to resort to marrying blood relatives? First, Durand, you ought to listen what your betters are saying, and if you don't understand, let someone with more brains explain it to you. Then, first you accuse Lord Jackson of leaving the Empire in its time of need, then you state you left because the Empire is not worth serving any more. So what is it to be? You can't have it both ways."

He bared his teeth in a grin that showed not a trace of mirth. "As for your Imperial rank of General... meaningless, since even imbeciles like Zerk and subhuman rodents like Samus Augill can reach high rank in today's Empire, provided they are fervent enough in kissing the usurper's shrivelled behind."

"Therefore, the House of Darian will use any means at its disposal until the sacred soil of Kuat is ridden from your preposterous claim to rule."