The Phantom of Charity Bay - Mixed "Species" nWoD Game

WE ARE STILL ACCEPTING APPLICATIONS!

‘Oh jesus, oh shit, oh jesus. I’m going to die. I’m going to die and no one’s ever going to find the body. Oh please Lord, please Lord save your most humble servant! I beg you Lord!’

Tommy “The Flea” Mendoza was not normally what one might call a religious man. In fact, on more than one occasion he’d actually stolen from the collection plate at Our Lady of the Resurrection Church. Hell, one time, he’d slapped a nun’s ass for the fun of it. But when you’re in the trunk of an unmarked Buick belonging to one Lucius Malkovich, hands and feet tied, mouth firmly taped shut, you start to hedge your bets.

Screaming for help wouldn’t do much good, he knew, but that didn’t stop him from doing it. He’d begged and pleaded with the boys (Johnny and John, respectively) but they’d been unmoved. No one steals from Lucius Malkovich, they informed him, and he would be the shining of example of why this fact was so. He should be honored, Johnny had informed him, he’d get to do some good in the world, maybe after the public at large saw what happened to him no one else would ever make his mistake.

Tommy had already descended into panicked and resigned whimpering when the car slowed to a stop. He wasn’t so much surprised when the trunk popped open and Johnny and John stood over him. He wasn’t even surprised as his frantic whimpers for help went un-listened to, when he caught sight of the sign reading ‘Pier 44’, the last sign he would ever see.

No, what really surprised him was when Johnny and John both started screaming and shooting. And then the tops of their heads came off, Tommy “The Flea” Mendoza could not have been more surprised.

It’s a good thing he was already gagged, or someone might have heard the screaming.

- - - - - - -

Charity Bay, Maryland. “The City of Happenstance.” One of Maryland’s few metropoli and twin to illustrious Baltimore, Charity Bay is a city synonymous with good fortune. Over three hundred years ago the first settlers to Charity Bay were blown into the eponymous inlet by a freak storm on their way to the Massachusetts colony, and from this beginning it has grown into one of the most beloved Metropolis’s of the East Coast. With a baseball team of some high regard (Go Ravens!) and a football team of much less repute (Come on, Cyclones, get your heads in the game!), Charity Bay always ranks high in the “top cities to live in” in the USA.

But just because the dark side of a city isn’t particularly visible doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. Corruption has wormed its way into the heart of the city. The myriad gangs that one would expect to be operating in a city of such a size are, for the most part, suppressed, not through police influence but by the actions of a larger unifying force – Lucius Malkovich, the self-styled boss of Charity Bay’s criminal activities. Proximity to DC brings in its own criminal scum, these dressed in white-collars and three piece suits.

But besides that, it’d be a nice place. Well, except for the other things.

Vampires prowl the darkness, dancing their macabre political dances and draining the life’s blood of the city dry. Ghosts haunt the ancient bricks of downtown. Magi drink tea in the shopping malls as unknowing mortals pass by. Other far nastier things lurk in the shadows, feeding on humanity.

Into this city of many levels and warring factions, a monster will come.

Eight victims so far, all of their heads cut open gruesomely. Each Monday another group of bodies are found. There are no clues, no hints.

What does it mean? The things that go bump in the night are, for the most part, unconcerned. They are the monsters in the dark, mad mortals do not frighten them. But now a Duke of the vampire court has fallen to this Phantom (as the newspapers have been calling him), and the shadow things have to take notice.

- - - - - - - - -

This is a Mixed: New World of Darkness game of my own devising. It’ll be a game of Investigation, of Politicking, of Monster Hunting, and of Horror.

I’m stripping off a lot of the mythological and social aspects of the WoD games and replacing them with my own flavor and ideas. The characters can be any supernatural race (or even a mortal). The next post will list character creation guidelines.

I’d like between 3 and 5 characters, and will probably run them as almost semi-one-on-one games. Crossovers and groups will form and breakup as situations demand, but there will be a number of branching plotlines all centered around this serial killer.

The characters will largely shape the storyline. I would prefer to have no more than 2 of any given character type, and would prefer only 1 of each.

Universal house rules:

Forget the social rules of the nWoD books. I'm dropping them. Orders, Covenants, Tribes, all of them are being dropped. I'm rebuilding the supernatural landscape of this particular game world to fit my paradigm. Now, this does not mean you can't use the ideas or concepts of a certain group. A particular vampire who believes in Pagan goddesses or a mage who supports the techno-magical paradigm are both valid concepts, they just don't necessarily have the weight of a large social group behind them. The only books you'll specifically NEED are the Core books for your species, though I won't disallow Merits/Legacies/Spells/etc from other books if you run them by me.

The universe isn't quite the same as the WoD universe, but it's not too different. There's a Shadow realm beside our own, a realm of Fairy in the other direction, not to mention deeper, darker realms.

New Merit: Status (Supernatural World) (o to ooooo) - A new type of Status, Status (Supernatural) relates to your amount of visibility in the entire supernatural community of Charity Bay. While you may not be particularly influential in the vampire courts, your name is known by the creatures of the night and your influence stretches across racial lines.

Humans -

Any human characters in this game will have already, at some point, been indoctrinated into the supernatural world. They will be immune to Lunacy, Quiescence, and other such effects. I'd prefer something like a supernatural hunter, an exorcist, an investigator, or a scholar, but we can talk about whatever role you'd like to play:

Human characters are going to get some breaks to help them stand up to the over-powered supernatural threats
- - They'll start with 25xp
- - Human characters automatically get either the Unseen Sense merit, the Sleepwalker merit, or the Wolfblooded merit
- - Mortals have the ability to acquire some supernatural merits: Artifact, Enhanced Item, Fetish, and Imbued Item are all available

Mages -

Forget all of that Atlantis nonsense. Just forget it. Magic exists in the world. Some think its sheer human potential made real, some think its an innate aspect of reality, some believe it comes from the Divine. What and where you think magic comes from is personal, dependant on your upbringing, your training, etc. There is a magical society, but it’s far smaller than that of the vampires. There is no wizardly "court" in Charity Falls. Mages, all Mages who are in good standing, are part of a globe-spanning community, the Pentacle. Members of this community are expected to follow the tenets of the Pentacle, but are otherwise mostly left alone. Mage characters will get more information about magical society upon application.

Mage character creation is altered like so:
- - Rote specialties can be chosen from any skill in the character’s primary skill category (the one in which they put 11 dots)

Werewolves -

A werewolf character will be pre-First Change. Forget the mythology of the Uratha and the tribes. Your wolf will, at least at first, be all alone so even if there are werewolf tribes at all, they won't influence things -- at least, not at first. No Pure Ones are going to end up involved. The werewolf relation with the spirit realm will still exist, though as a lone wolf the way you'll interact with the denizens of Spirit aren't going to be the same as a Pack patrolling its territory.

Werewolf character creation changes are as follows:
- - In terms of character creation, werewolf characters are all considered to be Tribeless meaning you have only 2 Renown dots (one auspice related one and one free one) and can choose your second Gift dot only from the lists available to all Uratha.

Vampires -

Vampire characters are already all vamped out and indoctrinated into the intrigues of the night. I've stripped off much of the social flavor of Vampire: the Requiem. There are no Covenants; the Vampiric Court's primary grouping is the Clan. In most cities, clan Ventrue is in charge, dominating the political scene and forcing the other clans to accede to their rulings, however in Charity Bay, clan Mekhet has managed to insinuate itself in deeply, much to the chagrin of the Ventrue who dwell there. Vampire characters will get more information about the politics of Charity Bay when they apply.

Vampire character creation changes are as follows:
- - Covenant only Disciplines can be purchased by anyone with at least Mentor (o) or Status (o). You can't mix Covenant Disciplines so you can't have dots in both Theban Sorcery and Cruac

Prometheans -

Prometheans seems so uncooperative that I feel like they'll be difficult for anything other than NPCs. If you want to be a Promethean, check these changes that I did and maybe we can work something out: http://www.myth-weavers.com/showthread.php?t=16214

I stalk you constantly, and if we can figure it out, Jim Lund will be stalking you too. I am pasting his original story here. It will be expanded to bring him into Charity Bay, because Chicago didn't pan out well. Cerine died, Big Nacho died, everyone died, and it was all his fault. So Jim's bit of a mess.

James T. Lund - Talent Agent

"Get your fat ass back out there and spend another twenty minutes on the cross trainer!" Jim Lund yelled across the room at the blonde waif garbed in soaking wet yoga pants and a tanktop that you could see her ribs through. Her perky, pretend breasts kept the shirt tight, but Jim wasn't looking at her for his own benefit. Not directly. Jim Lund, founder of TalentLund, needed this girl to make her big break onto the recording scene, and he needed her to look good for the ogling masses.

She was never going to make it. She was his last chance. The last four pop princesses the man had tried to push under the limelight wound up in rehab two months into their career. Jim needed her to make it. He needed her to be the strong one. He needed a drink.

Pouring another stiff scotch and water, Jim sat on his leather couch, stared at the unlit marble fireplace, and dropped back the drink like a man dying of thirst. His eyes were red, and his hand shook a little as he put the empty highball back down.

Staggering a little, Jim Lund, of TalentLund, stalked into the other room to check up on his newest princess. He couldn't hear the machine, she must be done.

She was done alright. The blood was trickling down to join the pool of sweat on the floor. It looked like she'd collapsed and the machine kept going for a little longer. Her head was split open, above her left eye. Her right knee looked remarkably out of joint. Her breathing was shallow, but she was alive.

That made one of them.

He had sunk his entire company into debt banking on this little bitch. He was washed up.

Leaving her on the floor, Jim returned to the couch, the glass and the bottle. Skipping the first two, he took the third for a walk to the balcony. Looking across the town from his thirty-fourth floor apartment Jim was amazed at the bustle and the lights. He took a swig from the bottle and nearly choked. It was good, if you liked the taste of paint thinner. Taking the bottle by its neck, he threw it, uncapped, off the edge of the balcony. The spraying, spinning mass rocketed to the ground below and even thirty-four stories up, Jim Lund could hear his whole life smashing to pieces on the concrete below.

"Guess it's my turn," Jim said as he hopped up onto the railing, ass-first. Looking backwards into the quiet apartment he shouted after the girl crumpled up on the cross trainer, "You've killed me bitch! Why couldn't you be stronger?!"

"Why couldn't I be stronger?" Jim said to himself quietly as he kicked his feet up in the air and tumbled ass over teakettle into the night sky. The lights were even more beautiful as the glowing world spun around him. It was a long drop, and Jim had time to contemplate, he had time to scream, he had time to do a great many things, but he just gave up and went limp.

The first feather wasn't strong enough to break through Jim's shirt. The second wasn't either. But in a fraction of a second they had friends, and Jim's shirt was no match for the might of the two feathery appendages that tore out of his back.

The drunken talent agent was well past the halfway mark, and well beyond caring too. Then his fall started to slow. The wings were doing what wings do, but it was almost too little, too late. Almost.

Jim's body slammed into the pavement chest first some six feet from where his bottle had met its untimely end. His head snapped forward into the ground and his wings flopped to the ground with a thump at the impact. The wings folded back up into nothing, and the man that was only barely Jim Lund lay unconscious on the pavement while his torn shirt fluttered down after him.

* * * * *

After three months, he still wasn't sure what had happened. He remembered everything up to the spinning lights, but after that everything's a haze until he woke up in Florida Hospital on East Rollins. They told him it was a miracle. He'd fallen so far, and only came out with a concussion and a scrape.

Then the questions started. Jim had lived through it, but he was still professionally dead. The police checked his apartment and found a crippled pop princess sprawled atop a cross trainer. They found the empty highball. They found no signs of struggle. The mystery wasn't hard to put together, and aside from attempted suicide and maybe criminal neglect, there was nothing they could really hold him on. They still had to know why he'd done it. And they sent him to a counsellor to make sure he wouldn't do it again.

Jim was familiar with the process. He'd never been through it, but he'd seen it on TV enough times. He knew that he could just walk in, say a few magic words, and the doc would declare him cured.

He didn't know how right he was.

Walking out of the psychologist's office with a clean bill of health was the first step. Jim Lund was still broke. His business having gone into severe debt, Jim left it to the rabble and the banks. However, coming out of the office he felt richer than he'd ever felt before, as if some new power infused his being, and the world was at his fingertips.

That was when the dreams started.

He had a vision of two people beside a tree. The babe was pretty hot, and really naked. Jim was prepared to have one of those dreams. It wasn't one of those dreams though, it was a whole other sort of dream, and Jim was not in control. Part of him knew this was a memory. Part of him knew this was a long time ago. A very long time ago.

Jim felt as if he were moving closer to the two, as if he were trying to tell them something when a vision of beauty appeared in front of him. This blew the naked babe away. It was a whole other level of beauty. In his mind, in his dream, before his eyes stood, floated, existed... something. It looked like a woman, or a man, or a bird, or an angel. It was an angel.

"Tetrael, we cannot guide them so. We must love them from a distance. Do not test the divine plan," the vision of grace said to him.

In his dream, in his mind, Jim's lips moved. "They are so lost Michael. How will they ever find their way?"

"They are, my brother. But it is the divine wish that they be so, and we must not interfere," the angel named Michael said in response.

"Would you be so vain as to believe that it were possible to interfere in His divine plan my brother?" Jim felt himself asking with a hint of pity for the angel.

"It is not vanity, my brother, but discipline. Like the humans, we are capable of free will, as He decrees. It is our task to shape the world, and love His works, but we are not guides for these lost men," Michael said in a soothing voice. "Come away, you will only upset yourself."

And Jim Lund woke in a cold sweat, in a hotel room, in Chicago. He had been travelling the larger centers of the midwest, looking for someplace to rest his head and set up shop. He wanted to get back to his roots, and to build talent for talent's sake, not the vain quest for money that he'd been trapped in. The quest that had nearly killed him.

Jim had been attending shows at a small downtown theater in Chicago. He had gotten to know some of the talent, had seen the dancers and the actors and the singers and the musicians. He knew them all, and part of him wanted to see them reach their greatest potential. Part of him wanted to reach its own great potential, and see TalentLund revived like Phoenix from the ashes.

He took a young singer out for a late dinner after her show. The crowd had been attentive, but one drunk had spent the night yelling vulgarities. She needed something to make her feel better, and Jim was not above treating a nice young woman to a meal to make her feel better. After the meal they had a few drinks, drinks turned to flirting, flirting turned to kissing, and we'll just say that she was not afraid to exercise her vocal cords late at night.

Holding the young woman tight, Jim fell asleep. He'd been having dreams, nothing as strong as the last one, but dreams nonetheless. One moment he was breathing in the intoxicating aroma of a young woman named Cerine, and the next he saw the naked babe again with her boyfriend and the tree.

The woman had a red fruit in her hand. It looked like a pomegranate. A bite had been taken out of it. Jim felt his dream-self moving closer, to say something, but he was greeted with another vision of beauty. It was like staring into the sun, without the pain. He could barely see the form of his companion, but deep down he knew who it was.

"Lucifer," Jim's dream lips intoned. "To what do I owe the honour of our best and brightest, my brother?"

"I have seen you Tetrael. I know how you feel. You want to help them, do you not?" the Lightbringer said in a voice more beautiful than the rest of the choirs combined. A voice that put Cerine's to shame.

"They are so lost. Of course they need our help. If we can, why should we not?" Jim felt himself saying to the vision in his dream.

"You are very wise my brother. You are also not alone. Come away, there are things we must do for our lost charges."

Jim Lund woke in a cold sweat, screaming for some reason. The image should have sprouted no concern, but for some reason Jim's body shouted out. Cerine woke with a start. "What is it Jim? Are you okay? What's wrong?" she asked in her voice like honey.

"Nothing baby," Jim said as he regained control of his body. "Just a memory. I mean a dream. Just a dream. I'm sorry, get some sleep. Work comes early tomorrow."

Jim Lund rolled over and went to sleep. He felt Cerine's arms wrap around his waist, and as his eyes closed, all he saw was blackness. All he saw for a very long time was blackness. When Jim woke in the morning, it was not with a scream or even a whimper, it was with relief. He felt as if he'd been surrounded by blackness for a very long time, and was glad to be free of it.

Okay, wow. This game looks interesting. Very interesting. The only problem is that, though I love games with a lot of options, I tend to get lost in the possibilities. I'll try not to, this time.

What do you have in mind for the Fallen?

Sorry, Shek, I've already got one guy pondering a Fallen and more than one is just too much. Kerrz's guy up there is a Demon.

I'd love to try out WoD and doing so with a werewolf sounds like a lot of fun.

I'm pretty sure I can borrow the core books from a RL friend within a day or two and I could start familiarizing myself with the mechanics immediately.

When do you imagine that you'll pick your PC's and get started?

EDIT:
I just surfed over to wikipedia and found two werewolf books available: Werewolf the Forsaken and Werewolf the Apocalypse. I don't know which one my buddy has. Does it matter to you which is used?

The Apocalypse is Old World of Darkness.

The Forsaken is New World of Darkness.

We are using the New World of Darkness rules. Also, when creating your characters REMEMBER MY CHAR CREATION GUIDELINES.

then what about the "Risen"?