Gaius Bassianus Numidiens
The Numidian, The Black King, Questing Philosopher of the Sanguine Void Unbound, The Rex Sacrorum

[spoiler=DECEASED and DIABLERIZED]Virtue: Hope: Apocryphally, Archimedes once said that given a long enough lever and a place to stand, he could move the world. Gaius Bassianus has been diligently searching for that lever for nearly two thousand years.
Vice: Pride: It requires a special kind of hubris to believe that you can become a god. Gaius Bassianus has it in spades.

This is the story that Gaius Bassianus Numidiens tells. He tells it because it amuses him, or perhaps because it reaffirms some inner core of his psychology. Perhap it is even true.

Despite his mighty name, Gaius was born a slave in the North African city of Cirta, in the household of a mid-level bureaucrat in the entourage of the Imperial Governor. As a youth, he was a servant, carrying, fetching, helping with the household. Later, he did nothing more extravagant with his life than to become a petty secretary, taking down notes for his master.

It was the happiest time of Gaius's life. His master was a harried, harassed man, but not unkind. He had a home, he had food, he married and had children. His master had sworn to free Gaius's family in his will, and since Gaius helped draft that document, he believed him. Life was good for the Numidian clerk. And then he died, of some passing fever, at the age of forty-two, along with his wife and all but one of his children.

Then, when three days and three nights had passed, he clawed his way out of the mass grave from out beneath the bodies of his family. His Sire stood there, an elegant monster, and she spoke sweet whispering words into his ear, words of prophecy and magic. He would live, she said, until fire rained from the sky and the oceans choked with venom. He would read the Sibylline Books, and he would use their words to become a god. And then, when she had said all this, she entered into his mind and hid the words, and then she left.

Of the rest of his existence, -- and there is a very great deal of it -- Gaius is more reticent. The ancient Elder believes instead in lessons.

In Rome, Gaius learned the value of works over faith. The gods, if they can even be considered that, are elemental forces, not white-bearded men sitting in judgment over the living and the dead. The world is ruled by rites and rituals, perfect laws and boundaries that punish transgressors with mechanistic perfection. It doesn't matter what you believe, it only matters what you do.

In Ravenna, Gaius learned that there are monsters greater than the Kindred. That there are things out there, owls of ash and shadow, slithering things beneath the earth, exquisite daemons that flit through minds like an infectious plague. He learned that nothing is eternal, not even the Camarilla, and he learned something of why the Kindred are forever doomed to be lesser monsters. They are too human.

In Alexandria, Gaius learned who his Sire was, and learned the secrets of fate. He learned to trace the threads of the Great Tapestry of history, to divine its patterns. By discovering the recurring patterns of time, he learned how one can recognize the first signs of these patterns happening again, and manipulate them, placing himself at the vital point of the tapestry of creation, holding the scissors to cut the threads of lives, to grasp the shuttle and change the picture. To know the past in all its detail is to know the future, and to know the future is to have true power.

In Constantinople, Gaius learned that power is knowledge, in its most refined form. That they are simultaneous and self-reinforcing, that through the acquisition of knowledge, one earns power, and through the exercise of power, one can learn knowledge. Divinity is not a question of omnipotence, but of omni-science.

In Constantine -- the city that had been Cirta -- Gaius learned that blood is the key. But not blood as the Kindred believe it, flowing from vein to vein. Blood as family, as an unbroken chain from father to son, from mother to daughter. In blood there is power, and in blood there is loyalty. He gathered the family of his one son, and he became their god, and they became his servants. It has been nearly fifteen hundred years, but his family still lives, though they call themselves the Androlesci now, and live in the foothills of the Alps.

In London, Gaius learned through the beliefs of lesser men, one can accomplish great things, and magnify the power of a single being. That people want to believe, and the manipulation of faith, he could convince them to do what he wanted. Enough faithful servants working on enough arcane projects would bring result. Discovery is to a large extent a matter of sufficient effort and motivation.

In Vienna, Gaius learned that through works, through the appropriate rigors of mind and body, one can become a greater monster. Sun and blood and madness need not cloud the mind. The only thing that matters is the will, and knowing the secret laws. He learned that even the mightiest curse is impermanent, and that everything changes. A man can become a god, or a Kindred can become mortal, if they only find the right law before which to plead their case.
Covenant: Ordo Dracul, formerly the Cult of Augurs
Clan: Mekhet (Hollow)
The Perfected

TMental Attributes: Intelligence 6, Wits 5, Resolve 6
SPhysical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3
PSocial Attributes: Presence 5, Manipulation 4, Composure 4

SMental Skills: Academics (Roman Ritualism) 5, Crafts 2, Investigation (Enigmas) 5, Medicine 3, Occult (Divination, Veneficia) 6, Politics 4, Science 1
TPhysical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 2, Stealth (Lurk Unseen) 4, Survival 3
PSocial Skills: Empathy 4, Expression 4, Intimidation (Aura of Omniscience) 4, Persuasion (Negotiation) 3, Socialize 2, Subterfuge (Deceit without Lies) 3

Merits: Allies (
A collection of ghoul families organized into Roman familial cults, found mostly in Southern Italy and along the North African coast; Strength: May learn Veneficia at new dots x10, instead of new dots x14; Weakness: Suffer a penalty equal to (Veneficia) to all physical rolls when in direct sunlight
Androlesci Ghoul Cults) 6, Dream Visions 3, Languages (Turkish, French, Arabic, Italian, Spanish, Greek, English; Native is Latin) 7, Mind of the Devouring Worm 3, Mind of the Unblinking Serpent 2, Mind of the Inscrutable Hydra 2, Resources 4, Retainer (The Manes x4) 6 each, Shadow Cult Initiation (Moirae; One of the Fates) 5, Status (Ordo Dracul; Unsworn Philosopher) 3
Lair: The Chambers Beneath: Size 3, Secrecy 5, Occultation 5, Ritual Area (Veneficia) 3, Library (Roman Religion, Fate, Metaphysical Laws) 3

Willpower: 10
Humanity: Don't Ask
Derangements: Megalomania (Severe), Suspicion (Mild), Divination Obsession (Severe), Power Fetish Obsession (Capite Velato -- GBN's head must be covered; Mild)
If a vampire passes through a crossroads, whether on foot or in a vehicle, he becomes confused and disoriented. He suffers a -3 on all Mental actions for the remainder of the scene (rolls to resist frenzy do not suffer this penalty, though Discipline rolls that use Mental Attributes do). Passing through multiple crossroads in the same scene does not deepen the confusion,
Crossroads (Mild),
The 'pure' (virgins, members of clergy, or those with Morality of 8+) are greater than Gaius Bassianus Numidiens, fallen priest. He suffers a -5 penalty to all rolls (including Disciplines) to attack or affect those who are pure.
Respectful of Purity (Mild),
The vampire cannot help but stare at a cloud of dust. This might arise when the character disturbs the dust of a room, or if a knowledgeable foe blows a handful of dust in her face. In either case, GBN must spend a Willpower point and roll Resolve + Composure in order to look away. If the roll fails, the vampire stands transfixed for 10 turns. If the vampire is attacked, this effect ends.
Fascinated by Dust (Mild),
The vampire finds wounds inflicted by silver to be much harder to heal. Any damage from that source can only be healed during the day, while the vampire is asleep. The character needs complete rest to will his undead body to heal the damage. The type of damage is otherwise unchanged; if the character suffers Lingering Wounds from silver and is stabbed with a silver knife, the damage is lethal, but if he is shot with silver bullets, the damage is bashing. He simply can’t heal the damage until he goes to sleep.
Lingering Wounds (Silver; Mild)
Most banes involve folk remedies, herbs and practices from older cultures, but new banes do emerge. One of them is the odd effect that some vampires have on radio waves and other such transmissions. When the vampire gets near a device that uses radio waves (older televisions, radios, cell phones), the device loses reception. Televisions lose picture and viewers see only “snow,” while cell phones drop calls and radios crackle and warble. This bane gives a hunter an excellent way to track the vampire — just watch for the stream of people cursing into their cell phones or wondering why they’ve lost a wireless Internet connection.
Interference (Severe),
Shadows, reflections and even televised images turn away from the vampire. The vampire might make the effort to remain visible on a security camera or in a photo, but people around the vampire seem to turn their faces away. Likewise, if the vampire stands with several people in front of a mirror, the reflections of the people avert their eyes from the Kindred. If the vampire feeds on someone “in view” of the reflection, the reflection screams, alerting anyone in the area.
Shadow's Shame (Severe)
---Note: Gaius Bassianus is capable of spending 1WP to suppress all Derangements for a scene, courtesy of the Coil of Souls

Initiative: 6 (13 w/ Celerity & Eye of the Beast)
Defense: 2
Health: 8
Speed: 10

Blood Potency: 7
Disciplines: Auspex ●●●●●, Blood Tenebrous ●●, Celerity ●●, Dominate ●●●, Insomnium ●●, Majesty ●●●, Meminisse ●●, Nightmare ●, Obfuscate ●●●, Ralab ●●●●●, Veneficia ●●●●●●
Coils of the Dragon: Coil of Blood ●●●, Coil of the Beast ●, Coil of the Soul ●●●
Veneficia Rituals: 1st:
Drops of Destiny, Prophetic vision to answer a question, gain +2 to all rolls to investigate the image (research, say)
Appolonian Sight,
Tapas to Durga, gain +2 to Weaponry rolls involving traditional Roman weaponry (gladius, pilum), as well as +2 to Athletics rolls to throw the same.
Call to Mars,
Tapas to Brahma, +2 to Politics rolls for a scene, or +3 for rolls involving political domination or conquest
Call to Minerva,
Tapas, +2 to Academics rolls for a scene, or +3 for rolls involving history or time
Call to Janus; 2nd:
Dance of Doom, invert wound penalties for (successes) hours.
Strength of the Centimani ,
Amemet’s Pursuit, requires small animal sacrifice, contested by Wits+Composure+SU, if the caster has the most successes, space rearranges itself so that if the victim tries to flee, he ends up running right back to the sorcerer. Lasts for one attempt, ends at the end of the scene if not used.
Gora Mukhi, gain a fearsome visage and make a frightful cry, lose the ability to use Socialize or Persuasion for the rest of the night, but gain +6 to Intimidation, and all enemies take a -6 to initiative. For a further 1 vitae, grow 1L hooves and horns.
Shout of Pan,
Kiss of Sethep, drain an exsanguinated corpse of an additional points of vitae equal to the victim’s stamina by eating their liver and other internal organs, leaving them mummified.
Hunger of the Aetus Caucasus,
Cheval, penalized by Composure, ‘hijack’ the victim’s senses whenever the sorcerer wills, for (successes) nights.
Eyes of Minerva,
The vampire must first blood-let an animal, human or vampire, inflicting a number of lethal points of damage equal to the character’s Blood Potency score (yes, this may kill the creature). The blood must be spilled into a censor, where it is mingled with the vampire’s own Vitae and then burned. As the acrid smoke rises, the vampire must whisper entreaties to Ianus, beseeching the god to look backward through the vampire’s Requiem for some kind of clarity. For the remainder of the night, the vampire’s mind is not given over to the fog of eternity, and she can remember everything about her Requiem without having to overcome torpid dementia (though the Storyteller may still require an Intelligence + Composure roll to remember certain things).
This ritual has a few restrictions. First, all the blood sacrificed to Ianus must come from a single creature. So, vampires of higher Blood Potency must sacrifice larger and larger animals… or, of course, humans. Second, the vampire may only cast this ritual once per week, with the exception being during the month of January (Ianus’s month, the beginning and end of the year). During January, the ritual can be applied every night.
Rex Sanguis Sacrorum; 3rd:
Evoking the laments of Hades, the summoner soaks a silver coin with his own blood to pay for the favor of the ferryman of the Styx, as he inscribes with a knife the word ‘Styx’ in Greek (Στύξ) in the subject’s forehead when she is about to die (i.e. the rightmost health box if filled with lethal damage). The ritual delays death and deprives will from the subject, who enters a zombie-like state. The ritual actually prevents the victim from dying, so even if she seems like a zombie she is not, retaining consciousness and awareness of her state. This also bestows a particularly potent curse upon the victim. For each success in the activation roll, one point of the subject’s blood is tainted, and still provides sustenance (the vampire may continue draining the victim, gaining 1 vitae for every point of aggravated damage inflicted). Any remaining blood is considered coagulated, and thus useless. The victim dies when all blood in it is finally sucked out from her, and may rest in peace. Until that, the subject’s soul is trapped in its body, which never recovers from its injuries through mundane means. The subject of the ritual effectively enters a hibernation-like, locked-in state that can last for months if the environment does not kill him first.

It requires either a healer with the Holistic Awareness merit, or else some manner of magic, to break this curse.
Inertia of Charon,
Expels a possessing spirit from a body, and forbids them from re-entering or re-possessing anyone for (successes) turns.
Hand of Hades,
receive a +6 bonus on all Stealth, perception, and Athletics (movement related only) rolls for one hour.
Diana's Blessing,
Blood Portrait, creates a copy of GBN's mind in an immobile portrait (see below).
Painting the Galatean Portrait,
Caress of Torment, shifts wound penalties over by (successes). So with two successes, wound penalties begin in the 5th box from the right, and go up to -5.
Ministrations of the Kindly Ones,
Cheval d’Ange, The sorcerer imbibes a spirit or ghost in Twilight if this ritual is cast successfully, enabling him to use the spirit’s Numina for one scene. The rolls to activate the ritual are penalised by the spirit’s Rank, and they are resisted by the spirit’s Resistance (and the ritual may only be cast on a spirit the sorcerer can perceive in some manner).

If the ritual is successful, the sorcerer must pass a Resolve+Composure test that is penalised by the spirit’s Power. If the roll fails, the sorcerer receives a derangement appropriate to the spirit that lasts for the scene (e.g. he may gain an Obsession with fire if possessed by a fire spirit). If the roll is botched, the spirit assumes control of the sorcerer for the scene, and it may decide to leave the sorcerer’s body whenever it wishes. The sorcerer may use the spirit’s Numina while he is possessed, although he must pay the Numina’s activation cost in vitae. The Numina use the spirit’s step numbers. Numina like Possession will not work while the spirit is actually bound to a body, of course.
Guardianship of Kerberos; 4th:
Eye of the Norns, penalized by active concealing enchantments, see a vision of the person you most need to confront, without deception and showing the most important faces. Once the antagonist is finally confronted, gain 8-again on all rolls against him.
Reading the Auguries,
Fount of Wisdom, penalized by Resolve, drain skill dots instead of vitae from a target while feeding, at the same rate. Stolen skills replace the vampire's if they are higher (they are not added), and the vampire may choose a specific skill, or else the highest skill a subject has. Skills fade at the rate of one per night, and so long as the vampire has any of the target's skills, he also has all specialties the target had in that skill.
Mnemosyne's Fountain,
Thrashing of Apep’s Coils; requires an animal sacrifice (traditionally a bull, though a goat or similar large animal will suffice, success brings extreme weather conditions: lightning, freezing rain, hail, or snow, howling winds, or similar phenomenon.
Neptune’s Wrath; 5th:
Can raise or lower Blood Potency by (Resolve) for the rest of the night. This change is genuine in all respects (max vitae, vitae-per-turn, feeding restrictions, etc). If excess vitae remains in the body when the ritual runs out, take 1A damage
Ianus's Blessing,
Blood Blight, Penalized by Stamina, living targets take (successes) lethal damage, vampires lose (successes) vitae and may Frenzy
The Curse of Echidna,
Feeding the Crone, gains a (successes) aggravated damage attack
Typhon's Maw,
Rolls take 1 night each; creates a weapon (traditionally an arrow or dagger) which inflicts a contagious, degenerative disease (Cholera, scarlet fever, or leprosy)
Arrow of Tartarus,
As the Cruac ritual As One, the caster becomes a local divinity, see the Circle of the Crone book for additional details
Mantle of the Genii; 6th:
In modern nights, King Sisyphus is best known for his eternal punishment, to endlessly push a boulder up a hill. But what is less known is what Sisyphus did to deserve this punishment. Sisyphus was known as the most cunning of men, and his paramount act was to charm and trick the God of Death, Thanatos, when the latter came to drag him to Tartarus for his cruel and avaricious acts. With this ritual, Gaius Bassianus Numidiens is able to do the same, at least for a time.

Sisyphean Cunning may only be performed once a night. After the initial ritual is completed, the sorcerer can activate the effects of Sisyphean Cunning as an instant action at any time within the course of a night. When the effects of Sisyphean Cunning have been successfully activated, the vampire is under the protection of the ritual for one hour.

The rightmost Health box cannot be filled with any kind of damage while a character is protected by Sisyphean Cunning -- Death simply cannot take notice of the vampire. If the vampire enters frenzy, however, the ritual is dissolved, and the character may be killed. Wound penalties apply normally to a character protected by this ritual.
Sisyphean Cunning,
Requires 1WP and a sufficient quantity of darkness, creates a shadowy servitor with the following statistics: Power 8, Finesse (Successes), Resistance 8, Size 8. Each servitor exists for eight hours, and is about as intelligent as an especially smart dog, and will obey simple commands and notice obvious threats to GBN or to itself.
Spawn of Nyx
Devotions: Arcane Sight,
As the Essentiaphagia+Dominate devotion of the same name, but oriented towards spirits and using Blood Tenebrous
Compel Spirit, Cutting the Strings, Eye of the Beast, Manteia, Ritual of Nourishment, Spirit Sight
Vitae: 20/5

Attacks...........................Damage............................Dice Pool.....Special
Tartarus Javelin..................... 2(L)........................... 6/8................Blood Buff, Traditional Roman Weapon
Curse of Echidna.................... 0(L).......................... 19
Typhon's Maw........................ (Successes)(A).......... 3+(S)................Blood Buff

[spoiler=The Half-Loyal Ka]Type Reflection
Attributes: Power 6, Finesse 5, Resistance 6
Willpower: 9

Initiative: 12
Defense: 6
Speed: 16
Corpus: 11

Morality: Nonexistent

Essence: 30/30
The Reflection can take solid form, stepping out of its mirror and into the real world. It appears exactly the same as the vampire, except that it can walk in broad daylight, has a shadow and can be heard on telephones and recording equipment. It still doesn’t show up in mirrors, film or photographs, however. The Storyteller spends three Essence and rolls the Reflection’s Power + Finesse. The Reflection can stay in material form for one hour for every success rolled.
This Numen allows the Reflection to use the terrible, painful, gory memories of its vampire as a weapon. It projects them into its target’s mind, forcing her to re-live every horrific experience the vampire has been through. The target becomes overwhelmed by these flashes of memory and has to fight to focus on other thoughts or feelings. The Storyteller spends a point of Essence and rolls Power + Finesse – the target’s Composure + Blood Potency. The target suffers a -1 penalty to all actions for every success rolled for the rest of the scene. The Reflection can’t use this power on someone who has already been affected by it until the original effects have worn off. The Reflection can use this Numen on its own vampire.
Memory Flashes,
The Reflection reaches out from the mirror, TV screen or picture it has just manifested in and drags someone inside. The Storyteller spends three Essence and rolls the Reflection’s Power + Finesse – the target’s Resolve + Blood Potency. For every success the Storyteller rolls, the victim becomes trapped within the reflection (banging his fists noiselessly against the glass) or image (stuck in an attitude of terror) for one hour for every success rolled. The Reflection can communicate with an imprisoned victim (and in lieu of any other power to communicate, might use this as a way to talk), or choose to attack. The Reflection can use this power on its vampire. Should a mortal be killed within the mirror, their remains simply vanish; thus, Reflections cannot use this method to feed.
The ghost's manifestation causes electronic equipment to malfunction due to an intense magnetic distortion. No roll is required. If the ghost manifests successfully it disrupts electronics within a number of yards equal to its Power trait. Radios, TVs and telephones emit static. Appliances stop working. Lights go out. Videotapes and camera film is erased/exposed, ruining any captured images.
Magnetic Disruption,
This power assaults a person’s mind with a cavalcade of nightmarish imagery, breaking down the victim’s sanity in the process. Such images are often personal and culled from the target’s own memory. The ghost doesn’t itself control these images, and in fact doesn’t know what they are — thus, it’s probably the victim’s own mind that draws up the mental torture. The ghost can, however, use some of its own memory and history to affect the victim, thus furthering the visions of terror. Spend one Essence and roll Power + Finesse versus the target’s Intelligence + Composure. Success indicates that the victim gains a mild derangement (choice of the ghost) for a number of days equal to the successes gained over the victim.
This Numen enables a ghost to let out a
blood-curdling howl that causes an opponent to panic and run. The gost spends a point of Essence and then rolls Power + Finesse – the opponent’s Composure. If the ghost wins the contest, the victim must flee the ghost's presence for a number of turns equal to the number of successes achieved.
The Reflection can choose who sees it when it manifests. It manifests in a mirror, screen or picture as normal, but only the people the Reflection wishes to perceive it can do so without effort. Anyone else trying to find it (perhaps trying to catch a glimpse of what frightened another person in the room so much) must make a Wits + Composure roll with a -2 penalty. The Reflection can never hide from its vampire, who can always see it without needing to make a roll.
Selective Manifestation

[spoiler=The Manes]
Francesca, Calvino, Lucia and Pompeo Androlesci,
Type: Ghoul
Regnant's Clan: Mekhet
Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 4
Physical Attributes: Strength 5, Dexterity 3, Stamina 4
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

Mental Skills: Academics 2, Investigation 2, Medicine 1, Occult 3
Physical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 2, Stealth 3, Weaponry (Sword, Pilum) 5
Social Skills: Intimidation 4, Persuasion (Seduction) 3, Socialize 1, Subterfuge 3

Merits: Languages (Latin; Native is either Italian or Arabic) 1, Fast Reflexes 2, Fighting Style (
• Testudinem Formate
Move at only half speed and cannot attack, but grants a bonus to defense against ranged weapons for each ally in the formation, to a max of +5
•• Ciringite Frontem
Forgo Defense this turn, but can make a special knockback attack with a bonus for each ally in the formation (max +5)
••• Cuneum Formate
Can make penalized attacks, but any counterattack is at a penalty proportional to the number of allies in the formation (max +5)
•••• Orbem Formate
Can form a defensive formation around a person or thing, granting a bonus to defense for each ally in the formation (max +5)
••••• Contendite Vestra Sponte
Costs a willpower point to use, but launches an attack that if successful causes an automatic point of lethal damage for each ally in the formation (max +5).
Formation Tactics) 5, Fighting Style (
• Warding Stance
Attack first against foes with smaller-Size melee weapons in front
•• Thrust
Gain 9-Again with spear or bayonet
••• Block and Strike
Take -2 to attack to receive +2 to Defense
Spear/Bayonet) 3, Quick Draw (Melee) 1, Shieldbearer 1

Willpower: 7
Initiative: 8 (9 w/ Celerity) [Always go first when confronted with an opponent with a smaller-size weapon attacking from the front]
Defense: 5/1 (3 base, +2/1 shield, +1 Pilum, -1 for Armor), +2 with Block and Strike
Armor: 2/3B (Bulletproof Vests)
Health: 9
Speed: 13

Disciplines: Celerity ●, Nightmare ●, Obfuscate ●●●, Veneficia ●
Veneficia Rituals: 1st:
Drops of Destiny, Prophetic vision to answer a question, gain +2 to all rolls to investigate the image (research, say)
Appolonian Sight,
Tapas to Durga, gain +2 to Weaponry rolls involving traditional Roman weaponry (gladius, pilum), as well as +2 to Athletics rolls to throw the same
Call to Mars
Vitae: 4/1

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Gladius................................. 2(L).......... 12/14.....
Pilum................................. 3(L).......... 13/15........+1 Defense, 9-Again
Thrown Pilum....................... 3(L)...........10/12........Aerodynamic

Note: The above includes penalties for shield (-1)

[spoiler=Galatean Portrait]The Galatean Portrait
Mental Attributes: Intelligence 6, Wits 5, Resolve 6
Physical Attributes: Strength 0, Dexterity 0, Stamina 0
Social Attributes: Presence 5, Manipulation 4, Composure 4

Mental Skills: Academics (Roman Ritualism) 5, Crafts 2, Investigation (Enigmas) 5, Medicine 3, Occult (Divination, Veneficia) 6, Politics 4, Science 1
Physical Skills: None
Social Skills: Empathy 4, Expression 4, Intimidation (Aura of Omniscience) 4, Persuasion (Negotiation) 3, Socialize 2, Subterfuge (Deceit without Lies) 3

Merits: Dream Visions 3, Languages (Turkish, French, Arabic, Greek, Latin, English; Native is Berber) 6, Meditative Mind 1, Mind of the Devouring Worm 3, Mind of the Unblinking Serpent 2, Mind of the Inscrutable Hydra 2,

Willpower: 10
Humanity: Don't Ask

Initiative: 4
Defense: 0
Speed: 0
Armor & Health: Durability 1, Size 3, Structure 4

Blood Potency: 7
Disciplines: Auspex ●●●●●, Blood Tenebrous ●●,
The Galatean Portrait can't actually use Celerity for speed boosts, but it does help initiative
Celerity ●●, Dominate ●●●, Insomnium ●●, Majesty ●●●, Meminisse ●●, Obfuscate ●●,
The Galatean Portrait cannot use Veneficia rituals, but it still knows it for the purpose of devotions
Veneficia ●●●●●●
Devotions: Arcane Sight,
As the Essentiaphagia+Dominate devotion of the same name, but oriented towards spirits and using Blood Tenebrous
Compel Spirit, Eye of the Beast, Spirit Sight
Vitae/Turn: 20+/1

[spoiler=Spawn of Nyx]Type Shadowy Horror

Each Spawn of Nyx is a monstrous shadowy creature the size of a van. They follow no set shape, though most are human-ish. They flow like quicksilver, and are impossibly fast and strong, capable of rending steel with their half-material claws and tentacles. Each is about as intelligent as a very clever dog, and is capable of following simple instructions (Kill them! is a typical one, though something like Get That! works as well). They are also capable of noticing obvious threats (drawn weapons) and reacting to them. They are extremely loyal, but not suicidally so.

Spawn of Nyx are vulnerable to light. Sunlight deals aggravated damage to them (1A per turn), as does fire. Strong artificial lighting isn't as dangerous, but does inflict penalties (a flashlight trained on one would inflict a -1, whereas a large, coast-guard search-light would inflict penalties of -5 or more and may stun the creature for a turn). Rule of thumb, if you could easily read by the light, the Spawn of Nyx doesn't like it.
Attributes: Power 7, Finesse (Successes), Resistance 7
Willpower: 9

Initiative: 7+(Successes)
Defense: Higher of 7 or (Successes)
Speed: 17+(Successes)
Size: 7
Corpus: 14

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Shadowy Claw....................... 0(L).......... 7+Successes

Alexandra "Alex" Merrill, Queen of the Spring Court

[spoiler=Retired to New Zealand]

Type: Changeling
Court: Spring
Seeming: Darkling
Kith: Mirrorskin/Flowering

Alexandra is the Queen of the Spring Court. A beautiful, very social woman, she is almost never seen without a man (or sometimes another woman!) on her arm. She always seems to know exactly what to say and when to say it. She makes friends incredibly easily and some say she makes lovers even easier. Her reputation as a prominent socialite is known throughout both London's human world and the London Freehold.

The Queen knows what to say and when to say it because that is what her Keeper shaped her to do. She is extremely sensitive to others' desires and instinctively tries to become the right kind of woman (and occasionally man) needed to address those desires. It happens reflexively for her. She barely realizes when she's doing it because it has become such a natural, ingrained part of her being. Social situations and events are like sunlight to her Flowering side. She blossoms beautifully when surrounded by the warmth of company. As a result, she's learned how to get herself on the invitation lists for major parties and events nearly every day of the week.

Alexandra is so vigorously social because she's deeply afraid of being alone. Her Keeper stripped away so much of her identity that she feels she has nothing of her own left anymore. She believes she needs the company to survive. She is utterly terrified of looking inward because she's afraid of what she might find -- or won't find. As a result, she has many Spring courtiers that she keeps as close lovers and friends so she can avoid solitary moments as much as possible. She prefers human company as much as changeling company, but it's easier to work with changelings that enjoy the benefits of being one of the Queen's consorts. If she ever poses as a man, she goes by the rather neutral name "Alex."

As a Mirrorskin, Alexandra is capable of looking like any person she wants. As a Flowering, she is always exquisitely beautiful. Her "normal" form is that of a lovely brunette with deep brown eyes and sensual red lips. However, she custom-tailors her appearance based on the desires of whoever she's with. She relies more on subtle appearance shifts. Highlights in her hair, minor adjustments to her facial features, different colored eyes. She enjoys being recognized, so she rarely makes dramatic shifts. She is also never seen without a flower in her hair and she always smells of different perfumes and flowery scents even though she never wears perfume.[/spoiler.]

Matthew Cameron, Matthias Bölverkr

[spoiler=Moving to a New City where the Frosting Incident isn't Well Known]Type: Changeling
Court: Winter
Seemings: Ogre
Kith: Troll

Virtue: Prudence If it looks too easy, it usually is.
Vice: Pride Really, Isengrim just wants people to be absolutely terrified of him.

Background: Isengrim was born Matthew Cameron in Edinburg, and lived the first thirty years of his life as a travelling automotive parts salesman. He travelled throughout Scotland and the north of England, keeping garages in stock with mufflers and transmissions and dashboard radios. It was a rootless, wandering sort of life, all flash and surface and nothing deep about it, but Cameron enjoyed it. He was also an avid amateur skier and mountain-climber, who managed to trek up half the mountains of Scotland as well as several of the Alps. It was while vacationing in Norway that the Others took him away, as Cameron walked through a ferocious snowstorm, out of one world and into the next.

Cameron's Durance was one of hard, brutal labor, serving the frost-bound giant he knew as the Rime-Jarl, but in some ways Cameron thinks he had it easy (he certainly thinks so when he looks upon his wife). The Rime-Jarl was an unsubtle creature, and so he took Cameron and he set him to watch the herds of strange black goats at the edge of his domains, and otherwise left him be. The monstrous Rime-Jarl cared only for his goats, which were the size of elephants, with twisted horns of black onyx and eyes that glowed with a burning light. Cameron was twisted not by the cruel, faerie whimsy of his Keeper, but by the battering elements of his labor. A healthy, powerful man before, Cameron twisted into a veritable ogre from the need to survive the blizzards and frozen moors and the attentions of the ill-tempered goats he watched over.

Cameron stayed out for all seasons, in so much as seasons meant anything in the eternal winter of the Rime-Jarl's domain. But sometimes the Jarl called his servants back, holding feasts and games as he displayed his prized beasts. Sometimes the feasts had flesh in them that came from no recognizable animal (when it came from an animal at all), when it came from any animal at all, and often the games devolved into brutal and bloody fights which left the losers broken upon the ground, but that was all the better for the Rime-Jarl, who cared only for his beautiful monsters. Cameron was just one more lowly karl in the Other's employ, but he had an advantage over most of the others. He was smart, and he knew to keep a still tongue in his head, and speak only when he'd thought out all of his words with greatest care. It kept him alive when others were ripped apart, and maneuvered him to safer pastures and out of punishment. Until one day, Cameron challenged the Rime-Jarl to a riddle-game, with his freedom as the stakes.

He says he won. He didn't. He made a different deal then.

When Cameron emerged from the Thorns, he was the Rime-Jarl's thane, sent out to steal new prizes. He took up a place in the Winter Court of Trondheim, his taciturn and secretive demeanor well-fit for it, and grew in ranks. For some years, no one noticed anything amiss, not even when some secrets were hidden so well that they were never found again, and when some of the Lost stayed lost for years at a time. But there's no such thing as a secret buried so deeply that it cannot be found, and Cameron was found out in time. He escaped, a few yards ahead of a band of ogres who would have loved nothing more than to rip his innards out and burn them while he was still alive.

Norway no longer a safe place, he returned to the British Isles, and instead of trying to join another Court, he took up Privateering full-time. He'd never cared for people all that much before, not when he'd sold them shabby parts, not when he'd watch fools bleed out on the Rime-Jarl's dirt floor. It was easy to disassociate oneself from the rest of humanity, live in comfort in the Hedge, protected by his Letter of Marque from the Rime-Jarl. He took the name Isengrim after a time, the old Wolf, while those from his past called him Matthias Bölverkr, the Bale-Worker. He was set to live so forever.

Then he fell in love. The young changeling who'd be known as Reynarde was to be just one more trophy in the Rime-Jarl's collection, beautiful and violent. Isengrim captured her, using sweet words and cunning lies, but then he changed his mind. She was just too useful, a mad, broken weapon to turn against any of his enemies. And then she was too beautiful, too useful as bait. Isengrim turned his clever lies against his own self, and before he quite realized what had happened, he was in love, or whatever passes in Isengrim for love.

In person, Isengrim's a liar. He’s a genial man, a bluff brute who seems dangerous, yet nevertheless oddly charming. He’s fun to be around, lavish with praise and jokes, a rough-hewn humor to words and a rustic etiquette in his manners. He’s friendly, which people never expect of a Privateer. And that’s the point.

At his heart though, Isengrim just doesn't care much for people, with the one exception of Reynarde. He doesn't hate, as that requires entirely too much emotional commitment from him, and he can be whimsical in his favors at times. But simply, other people are other people, and matter to Isengrim only a little. He sees nothing wrong with what he does, feels no remorse and doesn't see why he should. Conversely, he holds no grudges against people who've hurt him or Reynarde, and feels very little fear. He'd probably be diagnosed as a psychopath if anyone ever got him to sit for a psychiatric evaluation. He's overlaid this with a heavy dose of Norse mythology, a belief in fate (the Wyrd) and destiny, and he may be on to something.

That said, Isengrim's not wholly without relationships to others. Reynarde is the grand exception, of course, and he loves her as much as he can love anything. She's useful to him, and he cares for her, and he protects her and accepts her, and if anyone killed her he'd feel compelled to seek vengeance. He doesn't hurt children or people completely helpless either, into which category he's filed Erin Lamothe, despite any evidence to the contrary.

[spoiler=Appearance]Eye Color: Light Brown / Yellow
Hair Color: Grey
Skin Tone/Complexion: Tanned and weathered
Hair Style: Unruly, medium-length (~2 inches), with long sideburns

Figure Notes: Isengrim has the look about him of a very physical man who's glory days are somewhat behind him. He's a huge man, past six and a half feet in height, with long arms and huge hands and feet. In his day, Isengrim was built like a Hercules, muscles upon muscles, but time has added a layer of fat over them, and good living has started the beginnings of a pot belly. The muscles are still there, though, if not quite as many as when Isengrim was young. Isengrim's face is long and has a distinctly lupine cast to it, with heavy brows and a strong jaw. His large nose looks as though it's been hit with a hammer on a few occasions in the past, and a broken jaw has led his face to having a somewhat asymetric look to it.

Always hairy, in his true form Isengrim grows a thick coat of tangled grey fur, giving him a more-than-passing resemblance with an old, Lon Chaney-style Wolfman or perhaps a sasquatch. His eyes change their color, and his arms become subtly longer, emphasizing Isengrim's troll-like appearance.

Clothing Notes: Isengrim has a tendency towards what might be described as 'Biker attire'. Jeans, t-shirts, and in particular a heavy leather coat which has had bits of chain and plate-mail sewn into it.

Accessories: Isengrim tends to plan ahead for his jobs. Various pockets may have tools, weapons, goblin fruit, spare ammunition, or maps stuffed into them. His weapon of choice is a massive hunting rifle, the sort of gun used to put down elephants and tigers, with sickly-looking crimson runes carved into the barrel and stock.

Other: Isengrim is Winter Court, and if you know him, you can tell. He's a stoic, and has a fatalistic belief that one's destiny has been written across the stars, and cannot be changed. And yet, despite that, despite his career, he's an easy-going man. He laughs easily, big booming laughs, is friendly to those not his targets, and is utterly smitten with Reynarde.[/spoiler.]
Court Winter
Seeming Ogre
Kith Troll

PMental Attributes: Intelligence 4, Wits 3, Resolve 3
SPhysical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3
TSocial Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation 4, Composure 3

TMental Skills: Academics 1, Computer 1, Occult 2, Politics (Freehold) 4
PPhysical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 1, Firearms (Rifle) 4, Stealth (Move Silently) 4, Survival 3, Weaponry 2,
SSocial Skills: Empathy 2, Intimidate 2, Persuasion 3, Socialize 1, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge (Disguise) 4

Merits: Giant 4, Mantle (Winter) 5, Token (Hedgespun Coat) 3, Token (Hungry Arrow) 4, Token (Trifles and Goblin Fruit; Hoarcotton, Brumebulb, Bilefruit) 1

Willpower: 6
Clarity: 2
Derangements: Narcissism, 4; Insomnia, 6

Initiative: 6
Defense: 2 (3, -1 Armor)
Armor: 2/3B (Hedgespun Coat)
Health: 9
Speed: 11

Wyrd: 5
Contracts: Eternal Winter 5, Goblin (Mantle Mask 1, Shooter's Bargain 1, Blood Binding 5), Mirror 2, Smoke 5, Stone 3, Vainglory 1
Glamour: 14/5

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Hungry Blood Stick................5L/A...............14.............1B to fire Agg, 250/500/1000 range, 3+1 clip
Hungry Blood Stick (club)......3B/A...............8...............1B to use Agg
Murkblur.................................Blindness.........9................vs. Resolve+SR


[spoiler=Moving to a New City where the Frosting Incident isn't Well Known]Type: Changeling
Seemings: Elemental
Kith: Fireheart/Hunterheart
Court: Autumn

Virtue: Fortitude The world is pain. A beautiful blossom of agony, a thousand exquisite torments laid on one after another. The slice of a flensing knife, the shatter of a broken heart, a broken dream or a bloody whip, Reynarde's felt it all. But she survives. One day at a time, she survives.
Vice: Lust The future is an illusion. Reynarde can smell the future, and she knows it for a thousand-faceted lie. She lives for the moment, for that ineffable instant of pleasure of between the forgotten past and the lying future. An elemental creature is Reynarde.

No one leaves Arcadia unchanged. Very few are changed as much as Reynarde was, however. Whatever sort of person lived behind Reynarde's golden eyes has been tortured and twisted into a modern monster, an inhuman hunter more like one of the Others than anything human. Reynarde is almost completely feral, her mind given over mostly to instinct. Moreover, the instinct isn't even something as understandable as the mind of a fox. Instead, Reynarde's mind is given over to the heat of the flames, to the eternal hunger of the gumi-ho, to a burning need to hunt and torture and consume.

It isn't a completely even thing, though, with certain human concepts giving Reynarde more trouble than others. Logic, chains of cause-and-effect require a palpable effort, but the Venator can use them if necessary. Empathy, or even the idea that the universe is populated by other thinking, living beings with their own motives is a more alien concept. Time is altogether beyond Reynarde's understanding, future and past alike looking like nothing more than a fractured fun-house reflection, a pack of uncertain lies. To Reynarde, the world is often incomprehensible, populated by bizarre entities with inscrutable motives, full of events that occur for no reason and with no forewarning.

Reynarde's first instinct when confronted with this alien reality is aggression. Violence is something she understands intimately, and when these unknowable entities are broken and bleeding on the ground, begging for mercy, they become familiar, comforting.

The catch is that Reynarde knows that she's insane. She knows that her bloodlust and instinctive aggression are rarely acceptable (though they're more often acceptable than one might think at first), and so she tempers them. Through mimicry, rote memorization, and laborious effort, Reynarde can pass for someone almost normal, constructing a facade over the frenzied monster within. The Venatore comes across as quiet and distant, as she prefers to do nothing rather than do something wrong.

The one touchstone in Reynarde's life, the one reason she hasn't carved a swathe of bodies through London, is Isengrim. The big Ogre is no more comprehensible than most of the rest of the world, but Reynarde doesn't care. She trusts him implicitly, and loves him simply and without limits. When Isengrim is around, he deciphers the world for her, tells her what to do, and never leads her astray, and for this Reynarde is devoted to him with all her body and soul. He makes her feel safe.

[spoiler=Appearance]Age: Late Twenties
Eye Color: Black / Yellow-orange with slit pupils
Hair Color: Black
Skin Tone/Complexion: Very fair ("Alabaster")
Hair Style: Just past shoulder length, black.

Figure Notes: Reynarde is a small, petite beauty, a Korean girl with delicate features, sweeping cheekbones, and large, elegantly canted eyes. She has a distinctly triangular cast to her face, with a slender jaw and narrow chin, and a small mouth, just a little ribbon of brilliant color. Though it isn't often noticeable at first glance, Reynarde is extremely athletic, her entire body densely muscled.

The changes between Rey's Mask and Mien are subtle. Her eyes change color, and her nails elongate into cruel, slightly hooked claws. Her small mouth becomes a nest of fox-like fangs, and Reynarde can unhinge her jaw to howl or bite things much larger than she should be able too. Most noticeably, a series of russet-furred tails grow from the base of her spine, six richly-furred tails with white tips.

Clothing Notes: Reynarde's most distinctive feature is her hedgespun fur coat. A full-length garment, perhaps just a little large for Reynarde's slender frame, the coat is made of fox pelts. Not just fox fur, all uniform and russet, but entire pelts can be seen in the coat. Paws, tails, even heads are woven into the massive garment. Metal plates are sewn into the lining of the fur coat, making it effective armor as well. Needless to say, even shrouded by the Mask, the foxfur coat is not inconspicious.

Beneath the coat, Reynarde usually wears tight-fitting but otherwise unobtrusive clothing, rugged and easily replaced. Jeans, turtlenecks, along those lines. Her fashion sense tends towards the scavenger-esque.

Accessories: Reynarde does not wear jewelry, though she tends to keep a lighter and matches in her voluminous pockets.[/spoiler.]
Court Autumn
Seeming Elemental
Kith Fireheart/Hunterheart

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 4, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 5, Dexterity 2, Stamina 4
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

Mental Skills: Investigation 4, Occult 2, Medicine 1
Physical Skills: Athletics (The Chase) 4, Brawl (Claws) 5, Larceny 1, Stealth 3, Survival (Tracking) 3
Social Skills: Empathy 3, Intimidate (Psychosis) 4, Subterfuge 3

Merits: Atavism 1, Dual-Kith 3, Gentrified Bearing 4, Lethal Mien 2, Mantle (Autumn) 2, Striking Looks 4, Token (Foxfur Coat) 2
Shared Hollow: Reynarde's Castle; Size 4, Amenities 2

Willpower: 6
Clarity: 1
Derangements: Masochism, 2; Loss of Compassion, 4; Repression, 7

Initiative: 5
Defense: 4
Armor: 1/2B (Foxfur Coat)
Health: 9 (15+Rage)
Speed: 12

Wyrd: 6
Contracts: Elements (Fire) 3, Fang & Talon (Canines) 4, Goblin (Mantle Mask 1, Call the Hunt 4), Mirror 2, Omen 4, Spellbound Autumn 1, Stone 5
Glamour: 15/6
Pledge: True Love's Oath with Isengrim: Type: Vow, Tasks Greater Alliance (-3), Medial Forbiddance (-2, never to betray their love by word or deed); Boons Adroitness (Brawl) (+1); Adroitness (Empathy) (+1); Adroitness (Survival) (+1); Medial Blessing (Striking Looks) (+2) Sanction Death (-3, both); Duration Lifetime (+3)

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Claws............................... 1(L)................ 13................MotTB, GoFF
[spoiler="The Truth"]The Truth: So who, in fact, are Reynarde and Isengrim? Above all else, they can be a blank slate for the Storyteller, to be made as unabashedly evil or as morally complex as the situation warrants. Nevertheless, if it matters, then this is the truth of their story:

Isengrim was born William Cameron in Edinburg, and lived the first thirty years of his life as a travelling automotive parts salesman and avid amateur skier. He was captured by one of the Others while vacationing in Norway, to watch the borders of his Keeper's arctic domain. After his escape, Cameron knocked about Scandinavia for several years, joining the Winter Court in Trondheim and rising in the ranks to a rather exalted position (though never Winter King), until he ended up on the wrong side of one of the Duchesses of the Icebound Heart. He lost his rank and his supposed love in a single night, and left Trondheim to return to his native Britain, where he took up Privateering out of an obscure desire to get vengeance on the Courts, and to line his pockets in the process.

Reynarde was born Soo Yun Rhee, a second-generation Korean immigrant born in London. She was a star athlete at school, which is perhaps why she was taken by a fox-faced Keeper with nine-tails to be his concubine and bodyguard. Reynarde's Durance was singularly traumatic, and by the time her master and lover tired of her, there was very little of Soo Yun's mind left, only a vague haze of lust and violence. She wandered around London for a time, never fitting in anywhere but loosely affiliated with the Autumn Court due to her penchant for spreading terror at its most elemental.

The two Lost met while Isengrim was spying upon the Autumn Court, following the loose motley of Changelings to which Reynarde belonged at the time. There was a briarwolf attack on one of the wilder trods, and Isengrim witnessed Reynarde's mad slaughter first-hand. He drew her to his Hollow, using cunning words and sweet lies, thinking to turn her into a living weapon. Instead, he found himself falling in love, and the two swore their own version of the Heart's Oath before the year was out.[/spoiler.][/spoiler.]

Mark Philips

[spoiler=Retired as Marcus's Boy-Toy]
Type: Mage
Path: Obrimos
Legacy: Tamers of Fire
Order: Adamantine Arrow
Profession: Paramedic, Arrow field medic

Virtue: Charity. Mark wants to save lives. He became a medic to help people and become a hero and he swore an oath to save people.
Vice: Pride. Mark sometimes succumbs to raw, idiotic bullheadedness when his determination and inner fire get the better of him. Sometimes he forgets about his injury and ends up breaking his ankle, or worse, and ends up messing everything up.

Mark Phillips is a hero.

Or at least, that's how he hopes people think of him. His father, Michael, was a highly decorated captain in the British Armed Forces who earned awards for distinguished service during the Falklands War in 1982. The Falklands, which took place shortly after Michael earned his commission, served as a sort of baptism by fire. He proved himself by leading his platoon to flank the enemy and score an early strategic victory.

Three years later, Mark was born. The boy grew up hearing tales of his father's glorious war stories. He would listen starry-eyed whenever his father recounted the war and dreamed of a time when he could also play the hero.

The Gulf War broke out in 1990 and Michael was called to duty. By this time he'd been promoted to captain. He was sent off to the front and left his five-year-old son Mark and his wife, Jessica.

Naturally, Mark and Jessica followed the war closely. Days stretched into weeks, and then months. At first Michael wrote home weekly, but as the war went on, the letters came less and less frequently. Finally, a grueling month went by with no word, and when the word came, it was devastating.

"We regret to inform you that Captain Michael Phillips, British Armed Forces, has been reported missing in action."

Jessica was devastated. Depression set in quickly and she spent years mourning the loss of her husband. Mark took a completely different track. He worshiped his father. Everything his father did was heroic and noble. Michael Phillips was everything Mark wanted to be and more. Mark set about trying to be a hero, just like his father. He grew up playing games and imagining stories where he was the hero, where he saved lives, where he helped people. He loved television, Silver Age comics and video games where the hero overcomes insurmountable odds to win the day. Mythology, from King Arthur to Hercules, thrilled Mark, because it was full of heroic legends and magnificent victories.

The next major turning point in Mark's life happened the summer between 8th and 9th grade. His mother had picked him up from school and the two were hit by a drunk driver on their way home. The crash broke Jessica's collarbone and arm and both of Mark's legs. Mark thought he was going to die, and then the paramedics showed up.

The young man's inclination toward hero-worship manifested again. The paramedics looked like angels sent from God to save them. As they pulled him and his mother from the wreckage, he knew what he was going to do to become a hero. He was going to medical school to become an EMT.

Jessica sued the drunk driver for damages and received a comfortable settlement. Nothing too extravagant, but enough that with her husband's pension she would live a comfortably middle-class life and Mark would get to go to school.

Mark started his EMS training right out of high school and dedicated himself fully to achieving the highest paramedic certifications. He suffered several setbacks physically and mentally. His leg injury came back once in a while and caused him to fail a physical test, and sometimes he stumbled on written exams, but he kept his cool under pressure well and that scored him extra points. In the end, Mark got high certification and landed a job at a London hospital.

Awakening happened on his first real run as a fully-licensed paramedic. He and his partner had been called to the aftermath of a shootout between a gang and the police. The police had several critically-wounded when the EMTs arrived. Mark leaped out, nearly stumbled, and dashed to the first victim. The officer had suffered three gunshot wounds. Mark immediately set about to stop the bleeding when he suddenly found himself transported to another plane.

After he signed his name on the Watchtower, reality rushed back in. Everything seemed so clear. Everything made absolute sense. That one, first run everything worked out perfectly. All the wounded were saved and Mark felt like he was in exactly the right place at exactly the right time. It wasn't until later that he was able to reflect on what happened.

But before he had a lot of time to reflect, he was approached by the Adamantine Arrow. The militant Mages always had use for competent healers that could keep their heads under pressure -- and Mages that were willing to risk their lives for the sake of the greater good. Mark qualified and though he'd Awakened as an Obrimos, his medical skill lent him naturally to Life Arcana. The Arrow sent Derrick, an older Obrimos and a doctor at the main hospital where Mark worked to recruit the newly-Awakened willworker and teach him about magic.

That was a year ago. Since then, Mark has continued pursuing his dream of being a hero. He had Awakened magic to help him. He could realize his dreams. He could make reality bend to his will and he'd make his father proud.

Because of his dedication to his training, Mark never took time to have a relationship. Lately though, his mother's been seeing a new man, Randall, but Mark is suspicious of this new fling. He seems a little too perfect. Ex-military, honorably discharged with decorations. Something about the man makes Mark's Unseen Sense flare every single time he sees him.

Mark has two major taboos: Drinking and driving. He wouldn't do both at the same but he never does them separate either. The accident made him swear off alcohol before he ever started, and instilled an irrational fear of driving in him. Mark nearly didn't make it as an EMT because of the fear, but his persistence and high marks enabled him to get dispensation as a non-driver.

He never drinks, even with his buddies. He settles for coffee or soda and frequents coffee houses instead of bars. If the other EMTs go out, he's happy to go along with them but he never drinks.

His old injury causes him trouble sometimes. It hit right as he was getting ready to go into puberty and occasionally makes it difficult for him to do his job. Sprained ankles are common, and he's broken his ankle once on the job. He uses Life magic to heal himself and hide his troubles but he's privately worried it'll get the best of him someday. It also makes his self-defense training difficult. Arrow Mages, even their dedicated medics, are expected to have at least some combat readiness but Mark struggles to keep up with other novices. He's clumsier and slower to catch on. If he had his way he'd settle for being a back-line healer but he's been learning that the Arrow doesn't always get its way in its battles. He takes small consolation in the fact that he's a soldier now, just like his father was, and he'll eventually get recognized as a hero, just like his father.

Storytelling Notes/Personality: At first glance, Mark Phillips is a proud, inspiring figure. Even before he speaks, he looks like the kind of man people want to look up to and follow. His bearing is tall, proud, and noble. He has a commanding, invigorating presence.

Mark Phillips is not just inspiring in poise, he is eloquent in speech. He can encourage injured to calm down, the frenzied to cool, and he can rally an assembly to hooting cheers. This helps make him a skilled paramedic as he soothes the grievously wounded so that they can better be treated. Fire burns brightly in his soul and he uses this fire to light the way for everyone around him.

Those that know Mark better recognize his fiery determination. He is dedicated to his causes -- he is wholly committed to saving lives as a paramedic. He is an unrelenting and vocal supporter of anti-drunk driving causes. But with this determination comes a certain foolhardiness. He overexerts himself sometimes, provoking his childhood injury, causing himself to get more hurt. His magic allows him to heal himself for the most part, but he has to be awake. He's usually first on the scene when he arrives in his ambulance, and has pushed himself to his limits trying to get people out of their predicaments.
Real Name: Mark Phillips
Path: Obrimos
Order: The Adamantine Arrow
Legacy: The Tamers of Fire

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 4, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3
Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

Mental Skills: Academics ••, Computer •, Crafts 0, Investigation 0,
Rote Specialty (+1 to casting rolls)
Medicine (Emergency Care, First Aid) •••, Occult •, Politics •, Science (Biology) ••
Physical Skills:
Rote Specialty (+1 to casting rolls)
Athletics •••, Brawl •••, Drive 0, Firearms 0, Larceny 0, Stealth 0, Survival (Navigation) •••, Weaponry ••
Social Skills: Animal Ken 0, Empathy •••, Expression (Oratory) •••,
Rote Specialty (+1 to casting rolls)
Intimidation 0, Persuasion (Inspiration) •••, Socialize •, Streetwise •, Subterfuge •

$2000/month disposable income, $10,000 in assets
Resources •••,
+2 to Initiative
Quick Reflexes ••,
Your character is able to rally others in times of great distress, renewing their courage and determination in the face of adversity.

Once per game session, your character can exhort those around him to redouble their efforts in the face of great stress or danger. Make a Presence + Persuasion roll. If the roll succeeds, any individuals who actively assist your character and who are within earshot regain one spent Willpower point (not to exceed their Willpower dots). The character may not use this Merit on himself, and may not use it on the same subjects more than once a day.
Inspiring ••••,
Some people see blood and pass out. Some people hear another person throwing up and get queasy. Your character can watch medicinal maggots being massaged into open, blackened wounds and feel nothing except a bit of curiosity. He never feels nauseated due to unpleasant things he sees in a medical setting, and receives a +2 bonus to any roll to keep composed when offered scenes of violence or carnage, or when exposed to horrific smells.
Tolerance for Biology •,
Your character has some experience working under sub-optimal conditions. With poor tools or the wrong tools, she can change a tire, repair a roof or perform an emergency tracheotomy. When you purchase this Merit, assign it to a particular Skill (e.g., Make Do: Crafts). Reduce all penalties stemming from poor or inappropriate tools by the number of dots you have in this Merit. You still must need and have some kind of tools to attempt the action (you can’t patch a tire or perform a tracheotomy with your bare hands), but you can scrape by with poor substitutes using this Merit. Note that this Merit does not add dice to your pool; this Merit negates penalties.
Make Do (Medicine) ••,
Your character can distance himself from the pain, grief and suffering of his fellow human beings long enough to help them. This might make him seem somewhat aloof, but it also means that he doesn’t second-guess himself
when performing delicate surgery. The character ignores penalties stemming from stress equal to his Resolve rating. For instance, if an EMT is trying to perform an emergency tracheostomy while in a moving car with a werewolf on the roof, the EMT might normally suffer a –2 penalty from sheer emotional pressure. If he had this Merit and his Resolve were 2 or higher, he would take no penalty at all.
Emotional Detachment •
Status Affiliations Medical Community •, Adamantine Arrow ••
Friends Marcus •••••

Willpower: 6
Wisdom: 7

Health: 8
Initiative: 8
Defense: 3
Armor: 4/4 (Mage Armor)
Mental Shield: 2 (Mind Shield)
Speed: 10

Gnosis: 3
Arcana: Forces ••••, Life •••, Mind ••, Prime •
Rotes: Forces --
Wits + Composure + Forces
Intelligence + Science + Forces
Tune In,
Stamina + Science + Forces
Unseen Shield,
Intelligence + Science + Forces
Bestow Unseen Shield,
Presence + Science + Forces
Control Fire,
Stamina + Survival + Forces
Fireproofing; Life --
Intelligence + Survival (plants) or Animal Ken (animals) or Medicine (people) + Life
Analyze Life,
Stamina + Medicine + Life
Cleanse the Body,
Intelligence + Medicine + Life
Healer's Trance,
Intelligence + Medicine + Life
Purify Bodies,
Wits + Medicine + Life
Banish Plague,
Composure + Medicine + Life
Healing Heart,
Resolve + Athletics + Life
Honing the Form; Mind --
Resolve + Occult + Mind
Mental Shield
Mana/Per Turn: 12/3
Legacy Attainments: 1st –
Like attracts like, and the Tamer of Fire who gains the first Attainment learns how to use his transformed nature to commune with flames and control them. Simply by talking to the flames, he can create an effect identical to the Forces 2 spell “Influence Fire” (see Mage: The Awakening, p. 166), except that the player rolls Presence + Expression + Forces to cast the spell. If he uses the fire to attack someone, the target’s Defense is subtracted from the roll.
Optional Arcanum: Mind 2
This fiery sway extends to others. The fire, in its aspect of inspiration, reaches out to the inspiration of the people the mage communicates with. His charisma pays dividends. With impassioned rhetoric, he can influence the emotions of others as an instant action, an effect similar to the Mind 2 spell “Emotional Urging” (see Mage: The Awakening, p. 208), except that the mage rolls Presence + Persuasion + Mind, contested against the subject’s Composure + Gnosis.
Touch the Fire

Jean LeNoir
Master of Elysium

[spoiler=In Torpor, Entombed in the Yucatan and surrounded by a Tezcatlipoca cult]Type: Vampire
Covenant: Circle of the Crone – Sipán.
Clan: Gangrel
A proto-Brujah bloodline around the Yucatan Peninsula, same bloodline Discipline – Vigor – and the same weakness – severe penalty to hunger frenzies.

Virtue: Faith. Jean LeNoir believes in the old gods and their influence, and this faith gives him comfort in modern times. Technology has changed, the world is much smaller than it was, and the mortal kine has multiplied a thousand-fold, but at the same time, it's not so different. Kindred god-nobles still rule from the shadows, even if they spurn the title, and blood and sacrifice still lets the world live, one day at a time. To LeNoir, the chaos and unpredictability of modern nights make perfect sense in ancient terms, and this knowledge gives him strength of purpose.
Vice: Gluttony. Let's be honest. It's not so hard to believe wholeheartedly in a faith that elevates you to the role of demigod, and where spilled blood flows down the temple steps into your waiting maw.

Name: Jean LeNoir

Age: Appears to be 19-20
Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Black
Skin Tone/Complexion: Dark Brown, slightly sun weathered
Hair Style: Long and past his shoulders, combed back over his head

Figure Notes: Jean LeNoir looks much like the full-blooded Nahua he is. He has an incredibly striking geometric cast to his face, with high cheekbones, a hawkish nose, and a sharply sloped forehead. He's not tall, he's not even that broad, but he makes up for it in being covered in muscle. His is not a bulky kind of figure, but the lean yet heavy muscle that comes from being an active warrior in the prime of his life. His body has a number of dark brown Aztec tattoos on them, most notably one that runs down the side of his face, from the forehead to the jaw. He also has a number of tattoos on his arms, legs, back, and hands, a black band around his right ankle, and a number of ritual or combat scars on his chest. Both his ears are pierced, and he'll wear turquoise studs in them, as well as a silver chin piercing as often as not. His nose is pierced, but he very rarely wears anything to show it. He is missing his right foot - usually.

Clothing Notes:For casual wear, LeNoir prefers relatively light and minimalistic clothing. Outfits vary between t-shirts and slacks, to tank tops and kilts or shorts, to just shorts or a kilt, depending on how likely he is to be yelled at for sticking out like a sore thumb. His right leg is usually wrapped with cloth, from the knee down to the ankle. As far as color schemes go, LeNoir likes black, white, and turquoise, but also has a distressing habit of wearing bright yellow or red, and on very unfortunate occasions, wears leopard print tanktops.

Accessories: A very, very, very large macahuitl, a gold and turquoise chimalli shield, an Aztec obsidian-bladed sacrificial knife. He wears a beaded turquoise and silver necklace around his neck. LeNoir wears a shiny black prosthetic foot to replace his missing one. He walks with a forearm crutch on his right arm.

Other: Jean is left handed.

Covenant: Circle of the Crone – Sipán.
Clan: Gangrel
A proto-Brujah bloodline around the Yucatan Peninsula, same bloodline Discipline – Vigor – and the same weakness – severe penalty to hunger frenzies.

PMental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 5, Resolve 4
TPhysical Attributes: Strength 4, Dexterity 4, Stamina 5
SSocial Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 4, Composure 2

SMental Skills: Academics 2, Crafts 4, Investigation (Surveillance) 2, Medicine 1, Occult (Aztec Blood Sorcery) 3, Politics 2
PPhysical Skills: Athletics 4, Brawl 3, Stealth 3, Survival (Tracking) 3, Weaponry ( Macahuitl) 5
TSocial Skills: Animal Ken 4, Empathy 1, Expression (Poetry) 3, Intimidation 2, Persuasion 1, Streetwise 3, Subterfuge (Feign Helplessness) 2

Merits: Common Sense (Extradimensional Situations) 3, Danger Sense 2, Fast Reflexes 2, Inhuman Resistance 3, Languages (English, French, Spanish; Native is Nahuatl) 3, Quick Draw (Melee) 1, Retainer (Xicohtencatl) 5, Shadow Cult Initiation (The Golden Room) 5, Shieldbearer 1, Status (City, Master of Elysium) 3, Status (Circle of the Crone) 2, Striking Looks 4

Shadow Cult Merits: Allies (The Golden Room) 6, Allies (Biomedical Corporations) 5, Allies (La Sociedad) 5, Allies (Grassic Lewis) 3, Allies (The Sparrowclaw Circle) 3, Contacts (Entertainment Industry, Finance, Government, Police, Medicine) 5, Friend (Jack Scarlet) 5, Friend (The Maestro) 3, Friend (Ermenjart la Charpentière) 3, Herd (Eager Cultists) 4, Resources 7, Retainers (The Men in Grey x8) 4 each
Shadow Cult Haven: One Canada Square; Size 3, Geomantic Nexus (Intelligence; Potency 3), Library (Interstitial Terrain, Secret Societies, Transhumanism) 3, Locus 1, Occultation 5, Ritual Area (Dimensional Nexus) 3, Secrecy 4, Security 4, Workshop (Surgery, Surveillance) 2

Willpower: 6
Humanity: 2
Derangements: Sanguinary Animism (Mild)
Variation on Lunar Illumination. If LeNoir is in total darkness, his eyes seem to glow a greenish-yellow, with large pupils, imposing a -1 penalty to Stealth checks in full darkness. LeNoir's eyes also reflect the light like a cat's or owl's.
Jaguar's Eyes (Mild),
Variation on Must Wear White, if LeNoir doesn't have something that visibly came from an animal (a jaguar-skin cloak, a leather jacket, even just a feather), he feels out of sorts and suffers a -1 penalty to all rolls.
Must Wear Animal Skins (Mild),
Variation on Beast's Cowardice. The Beast wants its prey alive and wriggling. The vampire can only take blood from a victim that physically resists.
Beast's Bloodlust (Severe)

Initiative: 8 (10 w/ Celerity)
Defense: 4 (6 w/ Chimalli shield)
Armor: 2/4B (Dragon Skin)
Health: 10 (13 w/ Resilience) Note: Begins with 1A due to Sacrifice of Xipe Totec
Speed: 10 (30 w/ Celerity)
Flaw: Lame (-3 speed)

Blood Potency: 5
Disciplines: Animalism ●●●, Ars Speculorum ●●●●●, Blood Tenebrous ●, Celerity ●●, Crúac ●●●●, Obfuscate ●, Vigor ●●●, Resilience ●●●
Crúac Rituals: 1st :
Prophetic vision to answer a question, gain +2 to dice to investigate the image
Drops of Destiny,
+4 to Crafts or Expression to create a specific work of art
Fires of Inspiration,
Tapas to Brahma, +2 to Politics rolls for a scene, or +3 for rolls involving political domination or conquest
Offering to Tlaloc,
Tapas to Durga, gain +2 to Weaponry rolls involving traditional Aztec weaponry
Offering to Huitzilpochtli; 2nd:
Amemet’s Pursuit, requires small animal sacrifice, contested by Wits+Composure+SU, if the caster has the most successes, space rearranges itself so that if the victim tries to flee, he ends up running right back to the sorcerer. Lasts for one attempt, ends at the end of the scene if not used.
Tricks of Tezcatlipoca,
Cheval, penalized by Composure, ‘hijack’ the victim’s senses whenever the sorcerer wills, for (successes) nights.
Dreaming the Other,
Gora Mukhi, gain a fearsome visage, lose the ability to use Socialize or Persuasion for the rest of the night, but gain +4 to Intimidation, and all enemies take a -4 to initiative. For a further 1 vitae, grow 1L claws.
Visage of Itzpapalotl,
Kiss of Sethep, drain an exsanguinated corpse of an additional points of vitae equal to the victim’s stamina, leaving them mummified.
Kiss of Xipe Totec; 3rd:
Hand of Seth, requires a small animal sacrifice, expels a possessing spirit from a body, and forbids them from re-entering or re-possessing anyone for (successes) turns.
Hand of Tezcatlipoca,
Diana’s Blessing, receive a +4 bonus on all Stealth, perception, and Athletics (movement related only) rolls for one hour.
Huitzilpochtli’s Blessing,
Rain, invokes storms within 1 mile of the caster, inflicting up to -4 in penalties, or clear away up to -4 in penalties. After being invoked, the weather continues as normal and is in no way under the caster's control
Invoke Tlaloc,
Yggdrasil’s Feast, can only be cast on open soil. Victims within a 4-yard radius (caster can increase the radius by 1 yard per -1 penalty) begin to sink into the ground, at a rate of (successes) feet per turn, till a depth equal to the radius. Attempting to free oneself requires a Strength+Athletics roll at a (successes) penalty.
Sacrifice to Tlaloc; 4th
Bleeding the Tarantula, creates a bloody half-spirit cat, which has a poisonous bite with an attack roll of (successes).
Call Nagual,
Eye of the Norns, penalized by active concealing enchantments, see a vision of the person you most need to confront, without deception and showing the most important faces. Once the antagonist is finally confronted, gain 8-again on all rolls against him.
Smoking Mirror of Tezcatlipoca,
Blade of Tu’at, requires large animal sacrifice, weapon deals Agg damage to spirits or ghosts, in Twilight or the Material, blade dissolves at the end of the night.
Blade of Mictlantecuhtli,
Bless Sacrificial Knife, +2 to all Cruac rituals, but the knife cannot be used for any other purpose, including tools or combat (unless the ritual requires you to stab the target). Blessing lasts for a month.
Obsidian Blade.
Penalized by Composure, drink someone’s blood and take their shape. Works on supernaturals and animals, but transforms only the appearance of the body, not equipment or attributes. Can only be used in the same night as the feeding.)
Mask of Blood,
Sacrifice of Odin, take 1A damage and cut off tongue, hand, eye, or foot, but willpower spending has increased effects (+5 to an active roll, +3 to a resistance). Lasts until healed.
Sacrifice of Xipe Totec
Vitae: 14/2

Attacks................................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Macahuitl...........................6L..............15/25.............Latter number includes Vigor, Offering to Huitzilpochtli, and Reverberating Blade
Type: Ghouled Jaguar
Regnant's Clan: Gangrel
Mental Attributes: Intelligence 1, Wits 5, Resolve 1
Physical Attributes: Strength 6, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3
Social Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation --, Composure 2

Skills: Athletics (Jumping) 4, Brawl 5, Empathy 2, Intimidation 3, Investigation 1, Occult 1, Stealth (Ambush) 5, Streetwise 3, Survival 4

Merits: Fast Reflexes 2, Fighting Style (

• Hunter's Eye
Spend a turn observing your opponent to lower his defense for the remainder of the scene
•• Slip Through
Attack one turn for no damage to null opponents defense from next attack
••• Pounce
If you roll more successes than the targets size it is knocked to the ground under you
•••• Fury
Make a claw and bite attack in the same turn, attacking two adjacent foes; Drawback: cannot use defense the same turn as maneuver
••••• Throat Tear
Apply +3 bonus for Bite as automatic successes as opposed to dice roll bonus; Drawback: Costs 1 Willpower
Tooth and Claw) 5, Movement Style (
• Flow
When running negate terrain penalties equal to dots, gauge jump distance reflexively
•• Cat Leap
When using Dex+Ath to reduce falling damage gain one suxx, and add dots to max damage reduction possible
••• Wall Run
Use Athletics to climb at 10ft+5ft/dot as Instant Action, at a penalty of -1/10ft after the first 10ft
•••• Expert Traceur
When making Athletics rolls for running, jumping or climbing, may make a roll using Rote Action at cost of Defense
Parkour) 4, Perfect Stillness 1

Willpower: 3
Initiative: 8
Defense: 5
Health: 9 (11 w/ Resilience)
Size: 6
Speed: 18 (base 8) (21 w/ Vigor)

Disciplines: Vigor 3, Resilience 2
Vitae: 3/1

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Bite................................. 3(L).......... 14/17
Claw................................. 1(L).......... 12/15


Paige Benton

[spoiler=The Players Like to Pretend He Doesn't Exist]Type Promethean
Lineage: Unique
Refinement: Argentum
Athanor: None yet
Profession: Postal worker, Satanist

The soul in question is one of the older ones, and it belongs to a British gentleman named Paige Benton, who was 28 years old in 1977, when he walked out of a jail cell in Brixton (when he wasn't supposed to be allowed out), and disappeared. Shortly thereafter, his soul took up residence in a cult-provided jar, and his face was in the files, and the body... well, the body was never found. According to most public records, Paige came from a modest, middle-income family, went to a technical university, got married while in college, and took up a job as a communications engineer at the BT Group, which is a telecommunications firm (though at the time it was just the General Post Office). Paige helped keep phones running, and was generally described as a very calm, very orderly sort of person.

The most comes about from the question of why he was in jail in the first place, which was that apparently back in 1977, the MPS busted an unusually loud party in the backroom of a club over in Southwark, and discovered that there was a slight case of copious alcohol, narcotics, a distinct lack of clothing, and someone had hanged a goat. It was a Labyrinth. The GotV set up a few of these, and according to their records, Paige had been involved with their group pretty much since college, (the specific labyrinth had been founded there and then), and was an absolutely splendid organizer, and a very cool liar. He managed to keep his professional life and marriage separate from his cultic activities for about nine years before the GotV pulled the plug on the Labyrinth.

According to the GotV's rather excellent records, Paige had a desire for transgression. He wanted to break the rules and thumb his nose at society, and never get caught or punished for it.

Bones of iron. Muscles of brass. Chains for the tendons. A goat's skull for the head. Lapis lazuli for the eyes, for power and wisdom. A silver tongue, with a fresh carnation set atop it. Inside the goat's skull, a copy of Duty - nestled within, a butterfly chrysalis, symbol of transcendence. Agate inlays on the skull, for organization. Flesh of earth and dust, mixed together with snake blood, cockerel blood, and the most potent wine and liquors I can find - Scorpion Mezcal, Asian Snake Wine, Absinthe, etc. Heart of solid gold. A garnet around the neck, for protection and loyalty.

A Winged Disk staff over the spine, imbued with a dream of flight. Three sets of wings on the back; a bat, a raven, and a dove. Sulfur in the chest and mouth, the symbol of fire. In the chest, a golden apple and a rose. For the lungs, and amphora, filled with burning incense. Copper for the genitals and ribs, symbol of Venus and Lucifer, the morning star. Goat hooves for feet. The left forearm, made of a scepter, the right hand, made of keys.

Type Promethean
Lineage: Unique
Refinement: Argentum
Athanor: None yet.

TMental Attributes: Intelligence 4, Wits 3, Resolve 2
SPhysical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3
PSocial Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 5, Composure 4

TMental Skills: Academics 2, Investigation 2, Occult (Satanism) 1
SPhysical Skills: Athletics 2, Drive 2, Larceny 1, Stealth 3, Weaponry 1
PSocial Skills: Empathy (Find Weaknesses) 2, Intimidation 3, Persuasion 2, Socialize 1, Streetwise 4, Subterfuge (Lying) 4

Merits: Eidetic Memory 2, Emotional Detachment 1, New Identity 2, Residual Memory (Empathy, Intimidation, Persuasion, Subterfuge) 4, Resources 2,

Willpower: 6
Humanity: 4
Derangements: Suspicion (Mild)

Initiative: 6
Defense: 2
Health: 8
Speed: 10

Azoth: 3
Bestowments: Dreamwalker,
As Unholy Stamina, but for Composure
Transmutations: Contamination: Detect Impurity 1, Stress Cracks 1, Confession 2, Remove Inhibitions 3; Disquietism: Scapegoat 1, Nameless Dread 4; Sensorium: Translator’s Eye 1; Spiritus: Essence of Salt 1, Mask of Sorcery 1, Cloak of Sorcery 2, Sense of Sorcery 3
Pyros: 12/3

Humour: Paige’s Humour is very similar to the Osiran phlegmatic temperament. He rarely becomes visibly emotional and is unfailingly polite. Still waters run deep, however. He never forgets a slight (he doesn’t forget much of anything, really), and his perception of a person is heavily weight toward what he feels that person has done wrong, rather than the aggregate of how the person has treated him. It’s very easy to fall from his good graces, and almost impossible to get back in. It’s also almost impossible for someone to tell whether or not he’s in Paige’s good graces.
Wasteland: Galateid Wasteland. The loss of names is emphasized. The effects of Paige’s Wasteland are almost entirely non-physical. Scents seem off, and air becomes stale faster, but most people don’t feel inconvenienced until they start losing the ability to make connections in their minds between present and past or possibility and fact.
Disquiet: Frankenstein Disquiet. People suspect Paige, blame him for things he didn’t do and generally mistreat him. The buildup is much more subtle than with the Wretched, though; people are more likely to talk about him behind his back or speak to him sarcastically than actually accuse him of anything.
Torment: Paige’s Torment leads him to exact revenge on anyone who has wronged him, but he retains full use of his faculties. Traps, complicated betrayal schemes and emotional abuse are all acceptable (even preferable) expressions of his Torment.

Don Javier Velásquez
Founder of La Sociedad del Sol Negro

[spoiler=On the Run, Possibly Dead]Type: Blood-Bather
Profession: Cattle baron, fanatical worshipper of Tezcatlipoca

Don Javier Velásquez believes. He didn't always. His family had owned their estates deep in the south of Mexico since the Conquest, or so the family legendry goes. Velásquez was the eldest son, born in 1922. His family weathered the Depression and two World Wars, and Javier was groomed to take over the family business. He attended school at Harvard, recieving a MBA, and in 1958 became the head of the family estates upon the death of his father.

Then came the Black Sun. On March 7th, 1970, the moon passed in front of the sun, in the longest North American eclipse of the century. For most, it was a moment to stare and gawk, but in the Black Sun, Javier Velásquez saw something else. He saw the Smoking Mirror, Tezcatlipoca, and saw the old ways of the Aztec and Mexica being lost, and saw the end of the Fifth World at hand. Some few would be spared, but the world would be destroyed by an awe-inspiring earthquake when Tezcatlipoca returned to earth.

Ever since that day, Velásquez has recieved visions and omens from his god. It would be easy to dismiss him as simply a madman, a paranoid schizophrenic with a messiah complex. Except his visions get results. Following the visions, he formed a cult, multiplied his family wealth ten-fold by means of the drug trade, and learned old sorceries that would let him live forever. The rest of La Sociedad consider their founder somewhat odd, but a visionary and a prophet.

Velásquez is a funny kind of fanatic, in that he's a self-interested, fatalistic fanatic. Tezcatlipoca will return, and nothing Velásquez or anyone else can do about it. But he will need generals, he will need priests, and who better than his most faithful servant, Don Javier Velásquez? Velásquez will carry the shield of Tezcatlipoca, and stand at his god's right hand. That is what he waits for. Everything else, from sanity to morality to the rule of law is secondary to the reality of Tezcatlipoca.
Type Blood-Bather

SMental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 2, Resolve 4
TPhysical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3
PSocial Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 4, Composure 3

SMental Skills:Academics (Aztec Mythology) 2, Computer 2, Medicine 1, Occult 3, Politics (Business Management) 5, Science 1
TPhysical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 1, Firearms 2, Larceny 2, Survival 3, Weaponry 1
PSocial Skills: Animal Ken 2, Empathy 4, Expression 2, Intimidation (Fanatical Rants) 4, Persuasion 3, Socialize (Host) 3, Streetwise (Drugs) 4, Subterfuge (Spot Lies) 3

Merits: Allies (Federal Government) 4, Allies (Drug Cartels) 5, Allies (Local Police) 5, Allies (Coyotes/Human Traffickers) 5, Contacts (Federales, local merchants, shipping companies, the Catholic church, the press) 5, Destiny (Bane: Quetzalcoatl) 4, Dream 5, Resources 6, Retainers (Cultists/Narco Thugs x6) 2 each, Shadow Cult Initiation (
Free Academics specialty (Aztec Mythology), Resources and Allies in the Mexican government, business, or criminal communities cost 1/2; Dream Merit +3
La Sociedad del Sol Negro) 5, Status (Drug Cartels) 3, Striking Looks 4
Lair: La Hacienda del Sol Negro / The City of the Black Sun; Size 5, Library (Aztec Lore) 1, Ritual Area (Aztec Blood Magic) 3, Security 3, Secrecy 3

Willpower: 7
Morality: 2
Derangements: Narcissism (Mild), Homocidal Addiction (Severe)

Initiative: 5
Defense: 2
Health: 8
Speed: 10

Bath: Specific Material (Huge stone temple) -5, Symbols & Carvings (Aztec glyphs) -1, Attendants (Six worshippers) -5, The Stars are Right (Aztec Feast-Days) -2
Blood: Race, Color, or Creed (Ethnic Nahua) 0, Coat the Skin +2, Drained to Death -5, Fresh -3
Velasquez does not age so long as the ritual is in effect, and is immune to non-supernatural disease. He recieves a +5 bonus to resist supernatural disease.
Immortal +5,
Velasquez has a mesmerizing, predatory quality. He recieves a +3 modifier on all social rolls meant to seduce, persuade, or distract
Intoxicating Presence +2,
Javier Velasquez can send haunting, terrifying dreams that kill. In order to do this, Velasquez needs an intimate sympathetic link (either a prized personal possession, or a drop of blood, hair, or similar), and must conduct a night-long ritual that includes a human sacrifice. This sends a dream vision outwards, which functions as a sympathetic-range, supernatural poison-attack with a Toxicity equal to the sacrifice's health (Velasquez usually uses tough men, so Toxicity 8).
Dreams the Kill +4,
Velasquez has an intuitive link to the birds and beasts of Mexico. He may communicate with them, and gains a +3 modifier to all Animal Ken rolls. However, his communication is limited by the intelligence of the animal.
Lord of Beasts +1,
Velasquez can return from death, provided that his body is relatively intact (being burned to ash, or being dismembered and the parts separated would kill him permanently, but a knife-stab or a gunshot wound are more aggravating than lethal). Velasquez heals 1 aggravated damage per hour after death.
Return from Death +5,
Velasquez always looks handsome, young, and vigorous, as per the 4-dot merit of the same name.
Striking Looks +1,
Velasquez recovers from wounds extremely quickly. Bashing damage heals at 1B per turn, Lethal at 1L per 15 minutes, and Aggravated at 1A per day.
Regeneration +4,
If Velasquez misses two rituals in a row, he dies.
Life-Bound -3,
Frequency: Semiannually, 0 [But see below].
Preparation: Simple Blood, 0 [Technically the victim's heart]

Note: While mechanically, Velasquez is a blood bather, his ritual functions by carrying out mock-Aztec sacrifices, ripping out hearts and consuming them.

He conducts four sacrifices a year, on high Aztec feast-days. Should Velasquez miss a single sacrifice, then for the next three months (roughly), he is plagued with horrific nightmares, sees black omens, and has his powers fail him at inconvenient (but never fatal) times. In short, it is made very clear to him that Someone is unhappy. Should Velasquez fail a second sacrifice in a row, his life and soul are forfeit.
[spoiler="Cultists and Narco-Thugs"]
Cultists and Narco-Thugs

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 1, Wits 2, Resolve 1
Physical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
Social Attributes: Presence 3 Manipulation 2, Composure 1

Physical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl (Knife) 4, Firearms 4, Larceny (Breaking & Entry) 2, Survival 1, Weaponry 2
Social Skills: Intimidation 2, Streetwise (Drugs) 2, Subterfuge 1

Merits: Fast Reflexes 1, Fighting Style ([ooc=Dirty Fighting]If Brawl successes exceed composure, the target loses the next action; may use small weapons with Brawl; may spend 1WP to ignore wound penalties for a round) 3, Resources 1, Shadow Cult Initiation (
Free Academics specialty (Aztec Mythology)
La Sociedad del Sol Negro) 1, Status (Drug Cartels) 1,

Willpower: 2
Morality: 2

Initiative: 5
Defense: 2
Health: 7
Speed: 11

Attacks.......................Damage.........Dice Pool.....Special
Mini-Uzi.......................2L....................9................Range 30/60/120, Capacity 32, Fully Auto 2(2/3/4)
Flaying knife……...........1L.....................9...............If successes exceed target's composure, Stun



[spoiler="Largely Ignored"]Seeming: Elemental
Kith: Waterborn
Court: Winter

Goods and Services: Water-pottery. Brooke creates pottery made from pure "solid water." Food and drink eaten off one of her dishes tastes fresher and crisper than food from a typical plate. She mostly makes plates, bowls, and cups, but she makes other vessels upon commission. Her vases can keep cut flowers alive for months and her bottles make wine very tasty.

Brooke is also a major source of news. She spends much of her free time by the sea, listening to the stories the ocean brings. Though her news is not always accurate, she is happy to tell people anything she has heard.

Appearance: Brooke is slender and wavy. Her curves seem to flow effortlessly down her sea-green body with a smoothness that belies her fae nature. When she is out of the water, her dark blue hair looks wet and cascades in smooth, slick cataracts over one shoulder. Under the water, her hair fans out behind her, swaying gently in the currents. Brooke has three pearls embedded in her forehead, which give her an odd, alien appearance at first glance. She has webbing between her fingers.

Brooke wears coral and pearl jewelry and a gown made of shimmering seafoam. Out of the Market, she's sometimes seen wearing swimsuits or sarongs.

Roleplaying Notes: Brooke is a pleasant merchant when she's at her Market stall. She is able to catch your eye without being flashy and she knows how to press for a sale without being pushy. She believes her work speaks for itself, so she watches viewers to see what their eyes linger on. Then she seizes the moment and tells them the story of whatever dish the customer seems interested in. Each dish is just a little different, and many of them have wavy ocean patterns or bits of shells, stone, sand, or kelp plastered into them. If someone looks closely enough, he could swear the seaweed sways just slightly, or the sand swirls just under the surface.

Brooke loves stories and music. The price for many of her dishes is a new tale or song. For some of her rarer goods, she requests more concrete and still more ephemeral goods. A sound in a bottle, a memory of a tale, a painting made by music. She will also accept musical instruments, storybooks, and sheet music as payment. Over the years, she has accumulated a modest collection of valuable and intriguing books and instruments.

She is a bit of a gossip, and enjoys eavesdropping. She spends her free time listening to the ocean talk to her, and she sees the throngs of Market customers as another sea to learn from. When she has no immediate customers, she listens to the ebb and flow of conversation around her. Brooke invites customers to tell her things, especially commission customers, so that she can better know how to accommodate their personalities. She has learned how to patiently encourage people to talk to her, not because she wants their secrets, but because she wants their stories.

There is a bit of sorrow in her life that led her to the Winter Court. Brooke craves stories because everyone else's stories seem so much more interesting by comparison to her own. Her humanity was abruptly severed by her Keeper so she could survive underwater. She has blocked out the rest of her memories of Arcadia, but she sometimes feels like her life is empty without those stories, however painful. Hearing others helps fill that void.

Brooke's stall is located next to Light-in-Darkness's mini-emporium. The two have a friendly rivalry, despite selling vastly different products. Occasionally the two put on silly performances for visitors, where Light-in-Darkness's army of small, fiery creatures "invades" Brooke's fortress of water before being valiantly repelled. Each time, the tale is a little different. The two have been putting on the show for years and it has deviated quite far from the original production. If either changeling notices this, neither seems to mind.

Brooke is romantically involved with Newton, with whom she has found great joy. The two escaped Arcadia together, and Newton helps Brooke fill that void in her heart. She holds on to the tale of their escape, her only clear memory of Arcadia, and treasures it deeply.[/spoiler.]

Fang Meihui / Ling

Type Siten Uzu

TMental Attributes: Intelligence 4(3), Wits 6(4), Resolve 4(2)
SPhysical Attributes: Strength 2(2), Dexterity 6(4), Stamina 3(2)
PSocial Attributes: Presence 6(2), Manipulation 7(4), Composure 4(3)

TMental Skills: Academics 1, Investigation (Scent) 4, Occult 3
SPhysical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 1, Drive 1, Larceny (Sleight-of-Hand) 4, Stealth 3
PSocial Skills: Animal Ken 2, Empathy 4, Expression (Stage Magic) 4, Persuasion (Appeal to Sympathy) 3, Socialize 2, Streetwise 3, Subterfuge (Illusions) 4

Merits: Destiny (Bane: Debt) 3, Language (Japanese, English; Native is Mandarin Chinese) 1,
Twice per adventure, reroll a single roll with a +3 bonus
Prey’s Charm 3, Shadow Cult Initiation (Jade Rabbit’s Endless Circus) 5, Striking Looks 2

Willpower: 8
Morality: 3

Initiative: 10
Defense: 6
Health: 8
Speed: 13 (16 w/ Fox Transformation) (x2 w/ Inari's Swiftness)

Synthesis: ••••
This Aspect allows the siten uzu to take on the form of an ordinary red fox. The form’s trait modifiers are: Strength –1, Dexterity +2, Manipulation –2, Size –2, Health –2, Initiative +2, Speed +3.
Fox Transformation ••,
With a successful Wits + Composure roll, the character can mimic any sound he has heard at least once. Simple sounds require only one success to sound convincing, while more complex sounds, or specific sounds, require more. At the Storyteller’s discretion, some sounds may be beyond the character’s capabilities (imitating a person is reasonable; imitating a jet engine is not).
Mimic •,
This Aspect allows the siten uzu to see, hear and speak with spirits, so long as they are on the physical side of the Gauntlet. Doing so requires a successful Presence + Socialize roll. If the spirit is actively trying to conceal its presence, the character’s successes when activating this power must exceed those of the spirit’s attempt to hide.
Spirit Speech •,
With this aspect, the siten uzu’s fox form becomes astoundingly fast. The character spends an Essence point, and his Speed is doubled until the end of the scene. In addition, the character subtracts two dice from opponents’ Firearms dice pools. Unlike most Aspects, this one may be purchased multiple times — up to once for every dot of the character’s Synthesis trait. However, the penalty to opponents’ Firearms dice pools never exceeds two dice.
Inari's Swiftness •••,
This is the infamous fox magic for which the Kitsune are justly feared. To use Illusion, the character spends an Essence point and pictures the illusion he wishes to create in his mind. This may be a sight, sound or even a person meant to interact with the target. The character then rolls Manipulation + Subterfuge + Synthesis; the target rolls Wits + Composure to resist. For each success the character rolls in excess of his opponent’s, the illusion affects one of the subject’s senses. The illusion is utterly compelling, but if the illusion does something notably unusual the Storyteller may allow the target a Resolve + Composure roll to realize that his senses are lying to him.
Illusion •••••,
As the Werewolf Gift of the same name (Scheherazade’s Gift 2):

Since time immemorial, a storyteller sitting down to pass along a tale by the fireside has been granted certain indulgences. A man comes to town with a tale; someone will bring him a pint. If an aunt sits at the table to talk the old family yarns, someone is bound to bring her a slice of cake and some tea.

So it is with Meihui. With a successful performance of this Gift, the storyteller begins an engrossing tale meant to keep her audience attention distracted from her goal. She may involve the people listening, or call up local history. Regardless, as she’s telling the story, she can make a small request of the listeners and they are compelled to agree.

Cost: 1 Essence
Dice Pool: Manipulation + Persuasion, contested by the listener’s Composure + Primal Urge

Action: Instant

Roll Results
Dramatic Failure: The target sees the story for what it is, an attempt to manipulate those listening. This may cause the target to respond with hostility. Regardless, the Cahalith suffers a –1 to all social actions against anyone who heard the story for the reminder of the scene.
Failure: There is no compulsion for the listener to obey the Cahalith.
Success: During the course of his story, the Cahalith can give a single command to one listener. If successful, the target will perform one task for the Cahalith without being aware of the manipulation. The command must be within the confines of the tale told, and must not put the target in direct danger. The task must be something that can be completed within the given scene.
Exceptional Success: The listener obeys the compulsion with greater fervor. On future rolls involving the listener, the Cahalith gains +2 to all pertinent Social rolls.
The Storyteller’s Indulgence •••,
As the Werewolf Gift of the same name (Scheherazade’s Gift 4):

A wise storyteller knows that when an enemy must be dealt with, the best story is a tragedy. Striking an enemy from any history the Cahalith might create is surely satisfying, but a dramatic end in a story long remembered may be more fitting, and ultimately serve as a good warning to others who would cross the Cahalith. Cahalith with this Gift can tell a tale of woe so terrible that the subject of the tale is marked by fate for an awful end.

Cost: 1 Essence
Dice Pool: Manipulation + Expression versus the subject’s Composure + Primal Urge

Action: Instant

Roll Results
Dramatic Failure: Not only does the story not stir fate to turn on the listener, but the listener is aware that the Cahalith was toying with his destiny.
Failure: The Cahalith finishes her story, but nothing happens.
Success: The story influences the listener in a dark way. The next time the listener’s player (or Storyteller) chooses to spend Willpower to add dice to a roll, tragedy strikes and the roll is automatically considered a dramatic failure. The Willpower is not actually spent, however.
Exceptional Success: As above, but the Willpower stays spent.
Drawing the Curtain •••••,
Essence: 20/2

Note: The scores in parentheses are Meihui’s original, human attributes. The scores in front are her present scores.

Ling has the following traits as a spirit: Power: 5; Finesse: 7; Resistance: 4

Tamika Tanaka
Xue, The Maiden of Winter

Type Changeling
Seeming: Elemental
Kith: Snowskin/Leechfingers

PMental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 4
SPhysical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3
TSocial Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 3, Composure 3

TMental Skills: Academics (Noh Theater) 2, Investigation 1, Medicine 1, Occult 2
PPhysical Skills: Athletics 4, Brawl 3, Larceny 2, Stealth (Motionless) 3, Survival (Blizzards) 4, Weaponry 1,
SSocial Skills: Expression (Mime) 4, Intimidation 4, Persuasion 3, Subterfuge 2,

Merits: Destiny (Bane: Debt) 4, Dual-Kith (Leechfingers) 3, Enchanting Performance 4, Fast Reflexes 2, Goblin Vow (Blizzards, Masks, Circuses) 3, Mantle (Winter) 3, Shadow Cult Initiation (Jade Rabbit’s Endless Circus) 3

Willpower: 7
Clarity: 1

Initiative: 9
Defense: 3
Health: 8
Speed: 11

Wyrd: •••••
Contracts: Communion (Wind) 4, Elements (Ice) 2, Eternal Winter 2, Sorrow-Frozen Heart 3, Smoke 5, Vainglory 2, Wild 5

Solomon Kwaku Atenka

[spoiler=Reigning in Ghana]Type: Child of Anansi
Clan: Ghanaian
Born: 1947

[spoiler="Solomon Kwaku Atenka"]
Solomon Atenka at Home, Autumn of 1999[/spoiler.]

Virtue: Faith Solomon thinks in terms of world-historical forces, with words such as decolonization and globalization nesting in his mind. The world is a huge and impersonal place, but it is one in which a clever man can do a great deal.
Vice: Greed Solomon is a materialist of the first order. He perceives the well-being of Nasande and the Children of Anansi in purely material terms -- money, land, influence, followers, authority, and the acquisition of more of all of them. For all that he deals with spirits, Solomon is about as spiritual as a lump of clay.

Background: Solomon was born in 1947, ten years before Ghana’s independence. His uncle, the chief, had made the Atenkas’ thirtieth or fortieth fortune on the discovery of the Mampamhwe Gold Mine, which may or may not have actually had gold in it before some spirits had their mind changed. His mother, as customary, was the clan’s lorekeeper, and his father was a hard-charging political activist from the Liberian branch of the family tree. The Atenkas still assert that they subtly guided Ghana to freedom from British rule. While the jury may be out on this claim, it is true that they threw their support heavily behind Kwame Nkrumah, the charismatic, pan-Africanist dictator who became the country’s first president: unbeknownst to him, the family occupied a very large proportion of his inner circle. While this was a good idea at the time, it became less good when public sentiment turned violently against Nkrumah in the mid-sixties. There was a military coup when Solomon was 19 -- his father died in battle, defending the capitol.

Just like that, the chief was missing one of his brightest and closest advisors -- as well as the support of Solomon’s mother, who blamed the clan leadership for her husband’s death. On his own, and on the outs with the new national government, the chief’s rule suffered, and Ghana’s fortunes along with it. The next fifteen years were dark ones: the Atenkas eked out a living off their dwindling mine, while the country descended into poverty and political instability. Solomon knew he could run things better. He wanted to. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, Solomon got married, to the shining-eyed daughter of Gabonese oil millionaires. There was always an element of artifice in high-level Children alliances, due to the whole “cross-clan” element -- but despite being subtly pushed toward Cécile at banquets and official functions, Solomon was astonishingly well-suited for her, and she for him. Even today, they remain thoroughly devoted to each other, after thirty-odd years together.

Solomon’s mother died in the late ‘70’s. The chief, stubbornly, refused to follow suit until 1980 (heart failure), long after he had ceased to be relevant. Solomon acceded to the throne two weeks after Nicholas was born.

Atenka Holdings’ astonishingly profitable move into property over the past several decades? That was Solomon. The company’s equally effective diversification strategy, and new focus on foreign investment? That was also Solomon. The World Bank investment that jump-started Ghana’s economy in 1983, the new democratic elections of 1992, and the country’s subsequent economic turnaround? Who knows how much of that was Solomon. He’s certainly not telling. But neither is he showing any signs of slowing down.

Personality: To those outside the family, Solomon is a large, cheerfully amoral family business C.E.O. -- who, if you let him, will talk your ear off about Amazing Investment Opportunites, subtropical horticulture, fluctuations in the Nikkei, the place where he buys his shirts, Amazing Investment Opportunities, street traffic in Accra, his grandchildren, and did he mention those Amazing Investment Opportunities. He is also, for no easily definable reason, vaguely predatory. You know that he is being profoundly insincere. You know that he’s sizing you up with every glance; calculating your weaknesses; setting you up for a fall. You can very easily imagine him understudying for Godfather in any number of well-reviewed Mafia movies, and something about him reminds you of the word “carapace.” But it is impossible to put your finger on why this is. So you might as well do whatever he wants you to.

In truth, Solomon views much of the non-werespider global population as opportunities to be seized upon. He doesn’t have anything in particular against them, sure, and he has his charitable moments, but still: if they can be made to benefit him, and if he doesn’t have to do anything patently unforgivable to make them benefit him, then that’s pretty much what he’ll do. It makes him a very effective person.

To the Children at large, and especially to his family, he’s different: a just, experienced ruler, steeped in clan tradition, who takes care of his own above all else. Free of the need to keep up the jovial facade, he is even-tempered and sometimes serious, though he does have a keen sense of humor. He dotes on his wife -- still very much in love, as she is with him -- and is a strong, responsible father to his kids, even if he does tend to spoil them a little. While more locally focused in his own dealings, he respects Nicholas’ quest to spread the Atenkas’ influence abroad, and will support him insofar as he is able. One can’t really blame someone from a family of iconoclasts for being an iconoclast, after all.

Solomon speaks in a deep, booming bass, and his accent is a little stronger than Nicholas's.

[spoiler="Appearance"]Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Salt-and-pepper, heavy on the salt
Skin Tone/Complexion: About the same as his son

Hair notes: Mandela-ish in length and style. Solomon doesn’t bald, he greys.

Figure notes: Solomon is about average height, and has a wide-shouldered, square frame, well-padded from years of good living. Often seems to take up more of the room than he actually does, due to sheer presence. Has broad, expressive facial features, equally suited to expansive smiles and stern censure.

As often happens among his people, Nicholas inherited his variety of spider form from his mother. Dad’s version looks much different.

[SPOILER="Again, Something You Really Shouldn't Be Looking At If You Don't Like Spiders"][/SPOILER.]

Again, if you’re too scared to look, this is an Ornamental Baboon Spider, native to West Africa. It’s light reddish-brown with black patterns, fuzzy, bulky, and about five inches long. As such, it, too, has a certain undeniable presence.

Clothing notes: While he may wear a conservative business suit when dealing with clients, or a majestic yellow-and-red kente toga on ceremonial occasions, Solomon customarily goes more dressed-down than his son. His default outfit is a button-down linen shirt, most often in earth tones -- brick red and forest green are popular -- plus nice khakis and brown loafers. While unprepossessing on its face, everything in this ensemble is extremely well-made, and he carries it very, very well: the unmistakable impression is that Solomon is so rich and powerful that he can afford to look as if he’s just about to go golfing.

Accessories: Aside from the standard personal items, Solomon is quite partial to high-end aviator sunglasses -- as with his son, this is a cosmetic decision, as the elder Atenka has perfect vision. He also carries a representation of the Ananse Ntontan symbol, although in his case it’s embossed onto the face of a large, gold, class-ring-like ring, which he wears above his wedding band.[/spoiler.]
Type Child of Anansi
Clan Ghanaian

PMental Attributes: Intelligence 5, Wits 4, Resolve 4
SPhysical Attributes: Strength 3(5/4), Dexterity 2(5/4), Stamina 3(4/3)
TSocial Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 4, Composure 4

SMental Skills: Academics (Business) 4, Investigation 3, Politics (Nasande) 5, Occult 2, Science (Economics) 3
TPhysical Skills: Athletics 2, Drive 2, Survival 2
PSocial Skills: Empathy 2, Expression 3, Intimidation (Authority) 5, Persuasion (Salesmanship)
6, Socialize 4, Subterfuge (Bluff) 5, Streetwise (Black Market) 3

Merits: Allies (Megacorps) 5, Allies (Ghanaian Government) 5, Allies (Nasande City Police Department) 5, Contacts (~Nasande~) 5, Language (Akan; Native is English) 1, Resources 7, Retainer (Werespider Bodyguards x6) 5 each, Status (Ghanaian Clan of the Children of Anansi; Clan Chief) 5,
Lair: Sprawling Estate; Size 5, Security 4, Locus 3

Willpower: 8
Harmony: 5

Initiative: 6 (9/8)
Defense: 2 (4/4)
Size: 5 (7/5)
Health: 8 (11/8)
Speed: 10 (15/13)

Primal Urge: 5
Inborn Aspects: Shapeshifting, Regeneration, Shadow Bond
1st: Know Name ●
2nd: Traveler's Blessing ●●, Foot in the Door ●●, Pearl of Great Price ●●, Storyteller's Indulgence ●●
3rd: Babel Effect ●●●, Hypnotic Allure ●●●
4th: Spirit Skin ●●●●, Steganography ●●●●, Blank Burrow ●●●●
5th: Twisted Words ●●●●●, Spirit Animal (Serpent; Subterfuge) ●●●●●
Essence: 14/2

[spoiler=Werespider Bodyguards]Amadu, Toyuwa, Zinnah, Kofi, Siafa, Boikai
Amadu Yeboah, Toyuwa Yeboah, Zinnah Ndiaye, Kofi Sanneh, Siafa Owiti, Boikai Nwosu

Type Child of Anansi
Clan Liberian
Mental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 4, Resolve 2
Physical Attributes: Strength 3(5/4), Dexterity 4(5/4), Stamina 4(4/3)
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 4, Composure 2

Mental Skills: Investigation 1
Physical Skills: Athletics (Climbing) 3, Brawl (Bite) 4, Firearms 4, Larceny 3, Stealth (Darkness) 4, Survival 2, Weaponry
Social Skills: Intimidation 2, Persuasion 1, Streetwise 2

Merits: Fast Reflexes 2, Fleet of Foot 3, Fighting Style (
Add Firearms to Initiative; Reload as a Reflexive Action; May use Short Burst with lever-action, pump-action, or semi-automatic firearms; Firearms ignore defense even at point-blank range.
Combat Marksmanship) 4, Quick Draw (Melee, Firearms) 2
Lair: Apartments; Size 1, Security 1

Willpower: 4
Harmony: 5

Initiative: 8 (11/10)
Defense: 4 (4/4)
Size: 5 (7/5)
Health: 9 (12/9)
Speed: 15 (20/18) (x2 w/ Spider's Speed)

Primal Urge: 3
Inborn Aspects: Shapeshifting, Regeneration, Shadow Bond
2nd: Spider's Speed ●●
4th: Venomous ●●●●, Spirit Animal (Tiger; Brawl) ●●●●
Essence: 12/1

Attacks.......................Damage.........Dice Pool.....Special
FN FAL 50.61...............4(L)....................12................9-Again, Range 200/400/800, Capacity 20, Fully Auto 3(3/4/5), Size 2/L
Venomous Bite......…….2(L)...................12/16..............Spend 1E to inject a Toxicity 5 Aggravated poison

D.I. Jonathan Sanford Perish, Ret.

[spoiler=Retired in Majorca]
D.I. Perish in Uniform: September 1967, London, England

A Rare Post-Retirement Snapshot: January 1984, Bar Vincenç, Betlem, Majorca

Virtue: Prudence. Mr. Perish is careful. Very careful. He is methodical, and precise, and plans ridiculously far in advance. And when the right moment comes, he is ready.

Vice: Sloth. Mr. Perish slogs through life as if it's a foregone conclusion. He's not inactive, by any means, or unproductive, but one gets the persistent impression that he's an undercover existentialist.

Age: 91
Eye Color: Pale, piercing blue
Hair Color: Used to be sandy brown, now white
Skin Tone/Complexion: Not fantastic. He's an old, naturally pale guy who's been out in the sun a lot.

Hair Notes: Mr. Perish keeps a neatly-trimmed fringe at the back, but is otherwise entirely bald.

Figure Notes: Jonathan is in good shape for a 91-year-old, which admittedly is not saying that much. He used to be lean and a few inches taller than average, with the healthy constitution and wiry strength of a farmboy-turned-beat-cop. He's still lean, and though age has taken a couple inches off him and dulled his muscles a good deal, he's still quite a hard-bitten fellow. Favors his right leg due to the aftereffects of a late-career injury -- he had to ram someone at a bad angle during a car chase -- and walks with a slight limp. Has a long, high-cheekboned face, a sharp chin, and somewhat bushy eyebrows, all of which lends itself very well to English curmudgeonliness.

Clothing Notes: Standard "O.A.P. on Holiday" getup: usually pressed khakis, a neutral-colored button-down shirt, a leather belt, and loafers or boat shoes. Add a slouch hat, worn outside, and maybe a cardigan when it's cool out, and there you have it. Despite favoring such an outfit -- and sensibly, given Majorca's climate -- it is Jonathan's eternal misfortune to look as if he *should* be dressed in knit sweaters and woolen overcoats, in order to go Rambling on the Moors.

Accessory Notes: Wallet; keys; nice, middle-class wristwatch that the department got him for his retirement. Reading glasses, kept in breast pocket when not in use. Hand-carved mahogany walking stick, simply designed but well-made. Pointed lack of anything resembling a cell phone.


Jonathan Sanford Perish was born in 1916, to a large family of sheep farmers on the North York Moors: twenty minutes or so outside the town of Stokesley by modern transport. His parents being modestly off -- with more than enough people to tend the herd -- Jonathan was sent to school. Good thing, too. Young Master Perish excelled across the board, showing particular aptitude for civics and history. This is because he "knew in advance" what a significant portion of his test answers were supposed to be. Without having to study.

After graduating, his high marks and robust health led him off the farm, with his parents' blessing, and into the North Yorkshire rural police. Also leading him: the fact that he "knew" he was going to be a police officer. He made an equally good impression on the force, posting a solid performance record and impressive attention to procedure -- though, strictly speaking, not an awful lot of crime happens on the Moors, so it wasn't as if he was foiling dastardly Fifth Columnists or anything. …Until December of 1939, that is. The story goes that Perish was tapped by MI5 to be an undercover local point man on the bust of a homegrown Fascist cell, walled up in an armed compound out on the moors and radioing secrets to the Nazis. The operation was an astounding success. The real story is similar, only the Fascists were also a Pure werewolf pack; MI5 was MI18, the UK's supernatural-focused military intelligence division; and the MI18 agent assigned to the case had no idea who Jonathan was before the bust, having been clawed half to death and hogtied in the basement five minutes after walking onto the pack's property. After Mr. Perish drove up to the compound unexpectedly, broke the agent out, and helped him firebomb the place, the agent asked the young cop how he'd known to be there in the first place. Jonathan told him.

Mr. Perish was summarily promoted, transferred to London, given all manner of briefings, and assigned to take care of the Stepney Horror. In February of 1940, accompanied by D.I. Nathan Brinks of the London Police -- also of MI18, and not really named Nathan Brinks -- he did so. The next 30 years were ones of hard work and quiet success. Following his triumph at Stepney, Mr. Perish established a reputation as a determined, well-informed investigator with an above-average record -- marred only by the fact that he went through quite a lot of partners, and never quite managed to make D.C.I. Of course, his record was so good because he "knew" rather a lot about his cases in advance, funneling precognitive information to MI18 all the while; he hit the glass ceiling because MI18 wanted to keep him unobtrusive, and he went through a lot of partners because they were all MI18, and the government was not keen on them sticking around long enough for Perish to "know" stuff about them, too. In 1944, he struck up an acquaintance with his upstairs neighbor, a secretary named Edith Mills; in 1945, mere weeks after V-E Day, they were married, settling down to a comfortable home life. They had no children.

Now, see, MI18 thought they were being really clever with Edith Mills -- not her real name. This is because Jonathan had been studiously giving them the impression that his precognition was limited to details about incipient crimes -- not, for example, that it extended to prospective wives. In truth, Mr. Perish knew full well that "Edith" was a deep-cover agent meant to ensure that he kept in line, but as he "knew" it would be a good idea to marry her anyway, that's what he did. Besides, he liked her okay.

Perish's official career came to a tragic end in May of 1970. Seeking revenge for the imprisonment of one of their members at Jonathan's hands, an East End-based criminal organization abducted his wife, leaving her horribly mutilated body in Hoxton Square the following day. Perish tracked down the two killers with police sanction and "shot them while resisting arrest" -- but after this final act, the fire seemed to go out of his police work.

Of course, it isn't commonly reported that the gang members were Nosferatu, or that Perish "knew" full well that the murder was going to happen -- and, somewhat sadly, that it had to happen. That said, it did play into some of his long-term plans. "Edith," after all, had now been part of a crime, which meant that Jonathan's minders could now infer that he "knew" about her role. So he gave them a call telling them as much. No hard feelings. They shouldn't do anything rash. He'd even keep funneling them "information," to show his continued loyalty to the organization. The only thing was, he was getting a little tired of police work…

Several months later, a sympathetic department agreed to pension him off early, taking his years of exemplary service into account. In August of 1970, Jonathan Perish hopped a plane to Majorca, and largely dropped off the public radar. In the years since, both his family members and his former police colleagues have either died or stopped telephoning. Thus, as for what's happened to him in the past few decades…well, that's for Lauren to find out.

As with most of Jonathan's decisions, he retired to Majorca because he "knew" it would be a very good idea. First, it would get MI18 off his back -- as indeed it has. He's followed through on his promise to phone in "hunches" about national security every so often, but has deliberately ramped up the fake senility in his calls over the past decade or so: the agency still thinks he's precognitive, and still thinks he's trying to be helpful, but now also thinks that he's a useless crank. Certainly not worth assassinating -- good show for Perish, that.

Second, it would put him in the right place to make friends. A lot of people retire to Majorca. Some of them are ex-law enforcement. Some of them are powerful psychics. Exactly two, from 1970 through 2007, have been both -- aside from Perish himself, that is.

Now, Jonathan has an isolated beach house on the island's north coast, an hour's walk from the tiny seaside town of Betlem. Most afternoons, he can usually be found in Bar Vincenç, accompanied by René Villeneuve (89; French; thin; dapper; pencil mustache; ex-consulting detective; high-level telepath) and Heinrich Blau (88; German; short; stocky; "cop mustache"; ex-Stasi; high-level pyrokinetic), drinking, talking, and playing darts. Otherwise, he takes long walks, maintains a woodworking hobby, and prepares mentally and physically for the event he knows to be coming.

Jonathan Perish knows that something is coming. And he is going to be ready when it happens.


Largely for Lauren to discover for herself. Mr. Perish had a reputation for being quietly industrious and not much else, when he was in the public eye. Now? That's anyone's guess.

Put simply, Jonathan Perish has mental access to a several-hundred-thousand-page Choose Your Own Adventure autobiography of himself. That is to say, there are a dizzying number of branching pathways representing what he could do at any given time, and he can't pay attention to more than a handful of them at a time, but he has a pretty good idea of what will happen next if he makes any semi-significant decision. The rest of his personality flows naturally from there.

Jonathan isn't brilliant, but he always knows what he has to do. Jonathan isn't lucky, but he always knows where he has to be. Thus, for most of Jonathan's professional life, he had effectively been locked into his own optimal career path: decisions happen too often to a policeman for him to have avoided getting hunches, and he always knew that acting contrary to them would be a bad idea. In a sense, he really had no choice in the matter. This made him very good at existing, but very cynical, very detached, and oddly lazy about life in general -- after all, it was nothing more to him but going through the motions. MI18 peeping over his shoulder at all hours didn't help matters.

In contrast, Jonathan's stint on Majorca has been the best time of his life. Nothing happens when you're retired. Jonathan's precognitive abilities aren't kicking in nearly as much, and so he finally has his life to himself -- not to mention two sincerely close friends to share it with. To the other islanders, and others who don't know his secret, he puts on a grumbly, close-mouthed front: he does naturally lean towards crotchetiness in his old age, and is understandably not keen on talking too much about himself. To René and Heinrich -- as well as anyone who his hunches say it would be a good idea to open up to -- his true personality shines through: a placid, almost Zen-like calm, paired with overt displays of knowledge and a more benevolent demeanor. Mr. Perish has come to peace with his abilities as of late -- and he really does have humanity's best interests at heart.

If MI18 were to stop in for a visit, Mr. Perish would of course play senile. But he would know if they were coming, and they haven't bothered yet.

A few notes about the "Event" Jonathan foresees. It's one of three "fixed points" in his life: events that he knows about, cannot avoid, and takes exhaustive measures to plan for. Roughly translated, the first was "You Will Encounter The Stepney Horror Firsthand On This Date;" knowing that the Horror was very likely to kill him or drive him mad, Jonathan prepared by becoming a police officer with the might of M7 backing him up. The second was "Your Wife Will Be Killed By Such-And-Such Vampires On This Date" -- Jonathan played the long game here by choosing the right wife, and by tying the event into his larger life strategy. The third fixed point, I will leave to the Storyteller to decide. Jonathan himself knows fewer specifics on this one -- among them, that retiring to Majorca and allying with René and Heinrich are among the best ways to deal with it.

Jonathan has a longstanding woodworking hobby; his carvings, many of them subtly prophetic, are often on display at his beach house. He likes darts, chiefly because it's way too easy for him to accidentally cheat at cards. And, being a Yorkshireman born and bred, he has an appropriate accent, which he speaks in an authoritative but somewhat creaky tenor. Reference here.


René Villeneuve

[spoiler=Retired in Majorca]
Who's that dapper gentleman? Why, it's Mr. Villeneuve! Paris, France: 1955. (Also, Michael Redgrave)

Virtue: Justice. René was not always so responsible, but he's come to value it a lot more over the years. Even after having retired from paid detective work, he still likes to see the guilty brought to account.

Vice: Pride. Lust was a close second earlier in his life, but not anymore. Put simply, René knows all about you already, and knows even more about human nature. In his view, that makes him a pretty big deal.

Background: René could get away with anything when he was younger. His natural charisma and self-assuredness was evident from his boyhood, and the teenage-onset telepathy pushed it even further: being able to wrap your friends and relations around your finger through psychic means tends to encourage narcissism. The suburb of Amiens where he grew up was too small for him, as was his family's newsagent shop.

Given more time to himself, René likely would've progressed from general self-involvement to con artistry or a gambling problem. The war got in the way. In 1940, Northern France mobilized its citizenry to defend against the impending German invasion. René, 21 and of draftable age, did not like this one bit. When his number came up, Mr. Villeneuve did what he did best: read a couple of minds, found out exactly what the board officer needed to hear to oust René from consideration, and told him. It was an effective strategy on its face, but less so when word of the incident reached his family: even René couldn't smooth over their shame and disappointment. Screw 'em. They were better off where they were. René packed his things and moved to Paris. He'd be free there, and safe.

Of course, he wasn't. A month later, Paris was occupied, and René heard that his youngest brother had been killed in action defending the Maginot Line.

René told himself that he'd joined the Résistance on a lark: because it was all good adventure, because the women were prettier there, and because the Nazis were just boorish chaps who spoiled everyone's fun. It wasn't really the reason. René charmed his way into ownership of a Montmartre bar, opened its doors to Parisians and Germans alike, and kept his "ears" open as he poured drinks and washed glasses, funneling the information to the interested parties. On rarer occasions, he took on more direct assignments. When Paris was liberated, he didn't go home -- just funneled his talents into a private investigator's license, drawing on his contacts from his earlier work. Going home felt…well, he didn't really feel like thinking about it.

While he would only occasionally have admitted it to himself, René really did enjoy being a detective. It meshed well with his social impulses, allowed him to remain something of a raconteur, and felt pleasantly responsible when he used his talents to bring criminals to justice -- not to mention, he was just plain good at it. Mildly famous, in fact, after five years or so; enough for it to be an ego boost without attracting too much attention. Moreover, his powers allowed him to dodge any more official position: if ever a police or government contact began to suspect that his skill at deduction was more than natural, Rene always knew just what to say to allay their fears.

It was a routine blackmail case in 1959 that changed his life again, once more for the better. He was following the paper trail at a local post office, and did a cursory reading on the pretty young clerk behind the desk -- only to find out that she was reading his mind simultaneously, and had resolved to crack the same mystery in her off time, having noticed some suspicious thoughts in one of her customers. Also, she did not much like what René was thinking of doing with her after he was done investigating. The next three days were, in effect, a pitch-perfect action/romantic-comedy, with the questionably marketable twist of having both leads be telepathic. They hated each other; there were hijinks; they tolerated each other; they solved the case; they kissed; and it was adorable. Three months later, René Villeneuve and Babette Mesnard were married.

Through the swinging sixties and beyond, the two were inseparable: solving cases as a duo (Babette quit her day job); having long, deep conversations without either party saying a word; and generally being the psychic French New Wave version of Nick and Nora. Apart from his enduring love for his wife, having a supernatural equal around kept René's ego in check, and he grew more empathetic, considerate, and socially responsible with every passing year -- not to mention better as a detective. In the mid-'70's, he even went back to visit his hometown and patch things up with his family; it went surprisingly well, and he maintains a long-distance relationship with his siblings to this day.

In 1988, Babette passed away from cancer; she was 59. She and René had foregone children due to mutual personal preference, so there wasn't a lot keeping him in Paris. He shuttered his office, sold his apartment, and booked a ticket to Majorca.[/spoiler.]

Heinrich Blau

[spoiler=Retired in Majorca]Type: Psychic (Pyrokinetic)
Born: 1920

Leutnant Blau, early 1945: La Rochelle, France.

Virtue: Temperance. There is a non-zero correlation between "when Heinrich pushes his behavior to extremes" and "when explosions happen." He's in control of his powers, which means he's in control of himself.

Vice: Envy. From his late teens through his sixties, Heinrich's life was not his own. He still resents what he was made to do, and regrets his complicity in it.

Background: Heinrich just wanted to be a baker.

It should have been very easy for Heinrich to be a baker. His father was a baker, and was more than happy to teach him the craft. The small town outside of Waren (in the Mecklenburg Lake District, in northeast Germany), where he grew up, could have used a second baker. The…"unique" facility with heat and brick ovens that Heinrich developed during puberty, and which he could under no circumstances tell anybody he knew about, had the side effect of making him a very good baker. And, most importantly, Heinrich really enjoyed baking. It was calming.

Unfortunately, by the time that Heinrich was in his late teens, it was 1937. Heinrich was not overenthused with the German government in his late teens -- in part because it was becoming progressively more ominous, yes, but also because it seemed to frown upon noncombatant bakers, and seemed as if it would be far more enthusiastic about people who could murder other people with fire. Heinrich didn't want to be that second thing, but he was also a young man of military age. It seemed best to beat any prospective draft boards and secret police inquiries to the punch, volunteer for something that posed minimal risk, and just…wait things out. Quietly. Without any kind of unintentional incident.

Oh, look, there was a new naval intelligence base in Waren. Heinrich felt comparatively satisfied with the prospect of being surrounded by water for the forseeable future.

The next seven years passed…anonymously. Heinrich was on a lot of boats, was rarely noticed and rarely promoted, and -- if he did kill anyone directly -- did so infrequently, and via the usual wartime methods. While his missions were more varied than an ordinary sailor's might have been (that's naval intelligence, not just regular Kriegsmarine), they were generally not out of the ordinary for the branch. They did, however, ensure that he was not on a U-boat in the North Atlantic in late April of 1945, but rather, on assignment in Berlin -- not coincidentally, just as the Soviets had begun to break through into the city center for their final offensive.

It was not a pleasant assignment. Heinrich was alone on it with his superior officer, who was not a pleasant man, and who was driven to certain particularly unpleasant actions as the city's circumstances became more dire. Tempers ran high. There was an…argument.

Unfortunately for Heinrich, several members of Colonel-General Kuznetsov's 3rd Shock Army were there to witness a high-ranking German naval officer being incinerated by a twenty-foot-diameter psychic fireball. It was rather difficult to miss. Rumors made their way up the chain of command, and after the surrender, Heinrich was approached by certain highly placed parties within the Russian intelligence apparatus. He was commended on his uniquely dramatic renunciation of the Nazi regime, and his implicit solidarity with the Soviet cause. Would he be interested in a job? It was a rhetorical question.

Heinrich was shipped to Moscow for training. Five years later, he returned to East Germany. The Stasi had all manner of uses for a man who could set fires with his mind, intimidation and clean-up work foremost among them. Whenever people needed convincing, or needed to die in a horrible accident -- or were already dead, but needed to look as if they had died in a horrible accident…well. Heinrich got promoted several more times. He maintained few friendships, and never married. And he hated every minute of it.

In 1990, when reunification came, Heinrich was called into another office. The government of the Federal Republic of Germany was quite embarrassed, really. The Stasi was a criminal organization now, but Heinrich could not be prosecuted without the government stating what, exactly, he had done wrong. The government knew what Heinrich had done wrong, but did not exactly relish the prospect of a public inquiry -- West Germany had also maintained a number of "unique" officials, after all. It was really very embarrassing. Perhaps if Heinrich were to go somewhere very far away, and stay there, the government could lose track of some documents.

Heinrich retired to Majorca. Since then, he has gotten back into baking. Try the pretzels.


Lucas King

[spoiler=Eloped to the Rockies with Avery]Type: Werewolf
Pack: The Cold River
Tribe: Ivory Claws
Auspice: Pure
Born: 1982

Virtue: Ambitious
Vice: Deceitful
Long-Term Aspiration: To make a name for himself

[spoiler=Lucas King][/spoiler.]

Background: Born in Stoke-on-Trent, Lucas King drifted through life without ever really fitting in. He was a fast-talker, but that just got him into more and more trouble. Men always thought he was trying to chat up their girlfriends; women wondered if he’d still be there in the morning. Lucas tried doing things right, living life how he’d been taught to, and it got him nowhere. Sure, it was easy for him to make people like him. With a little effort, he could make anyone like him. But that wasn’t enough. What good was that for getting through life? After a particularly terrible defeat for Stoke City, he found himself in a bar, trying to talk his way out of a misunderstanding. It didn’t work. As he lay bleeding on the street outside, he decided that he’d had enough.

It didn’t take much to live up to his reputation. He had to stop worrying about the ‘right’ thing to do and go with the flow. For Lucas, it was deceptively easy. He let his job tail off and started tending the bar of a pub that a lot of hooligans used as a hangout. He got talking to them, worked his way in slowly. He gained their trust, joined them in drinking until all hours and assaulting rival supporters for daring to wear the wrong colors. For Lucas, life was simple. But then, things changed. What looked like a gang blocked his way to the ground for an evening game. Nobody else around, just him and the freaks. He ran forward, punching and biting and clawing. There was something about these people; they didn’t look human. They didn’t look right. He heard what felt like voices telling him that they were alien, other. He tore into them savagely, and they returned the favor. Only when a distant uncle showed up and his acquaintances revealed as werewolves that Lucas was able to see what he had become. He felt like he’d reached the next level. They broke him of his human weaknesses, his foolish impulses, and brought him before Silver Wolf.

For a few years, Lucas ran with his uncle's pack, but the First Change had re-ignited something in the young man. A drive, a desire, an ambition, or perhaps just some kind of bloody-minded contrariness. Lucas decided that Stoke was too small a place for a man of his ambitions. It was a dying place, worn out and tired and too small. And, perhaps, he just didn't like being told what to do. Lucas started talking to the other werewolves of Stoke, and in the space of a few months, he managed to rustle together a pack of young layabouts who were ready to hit the big time. They were ready to go to London.

In London, Lucas's pack secured a territory near the river, in the Patmore Estate in Battersea. They called themselves the Cold River, set up shop in a small bar of the same name by the riverside, and got themselves a totem. And it was then that Lucas had an idea. An absolutely brilliant idea. He made his bar a haven for football hooligans of the old school, the ones who just wanted a chance to get drunk, to hate, and to beat up anyone who looked at them cross-eyed. He listened to their complaints, he told them what they wanted to hear, forging their hatred into a weapon. He joined the British National Party, to give his gang a figurehead, and he decorated his bar with football paraphernalia. Lucas didn't actually care. It felt good to have followers, people who'd people who would do what he told them for any excuse.

On the whole, Lucas thinks he's done rather well for himself. He's the alpha of a strong pack, he's got a territory carved out near the heart of the city, a dangerous totem and a gang of mortal thugs at his beck and call. The next logical step is to make a name for himself, to do something big. He's been eyeing Revelation, hoping for a chance to take down the apostate Cinder, but the last time the Cold River and Revelation had a rumble, Cinder nearly took him apart thanks to some bizarre faerie witchcraft. He's looking for a rematch, but on his own terms.

Lucas’s never been much of a fighter. He can hold his own, but he relies on his pack to help out when things get really violent. Away from the flashing teeth and blood-slicked claws of combat, he’s capable of twisting any situation to his advantage. If he weren’t so likable, people would call him slimy, but he’s avoided that so far. He's a chameleon, a cynic and a demagogue. He tells people what they want to hear, and he's good at it because he never believes it. He used to care, but that never worked out, so why bother?

Lucas’s a tall, reasonably handsome young man. He’s slim but wiry, corded with defined muscle from the trials he's gone through. He never combs his dirty blond hair, but that just adds to his air of roguish charm. His green eyes look deceptively honest no matter what he says. Normally, he wears torn blue jeans and a T-shirt featuring the St. George Cross, the English flag, along with steel-toed boots, heavily scuffed from delivering a good kicking. In wolf form, he has a dark coat with a pale splash of fur across his throat and breastbone.
Tribe: Ivory Claws
Auspice: Pure

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 4, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 2 (3/5/4/2), Dexterity 3 (3/4/5/5), Stamina 3 (4/5/5/4)
Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 4, Composure 2

Mental Skills: Academics 1, Occult 2, Politics (Far-Right) 3
Physical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 3, Survival 1
Social Skills: Empathy (Sympathy) 3, Expression (Demagogue) 3, Intimidation 3, Persuasion 3, Socialize 2, Streetwise (Gangs) 4, Subterfuge 4

Merits: Resources 3, Status (Cold River) 4, Striking Looks (Boyishly Handsome) 1
Lair: Cold River Bar; Security 2

Willpower: 5
Harmony: 5
Universal Banes: Silver, Aura of Menace, Death Rage
Personal Banes: Silver Allergen

Initiative: 5 (5/6/7/7)
Defense: 3 (3/4/5/5)
Health: 8 (10/12/11/8)
Size: 5 (6/7/6/4)
Speed: 10 (11/14/17/15); (15/16/28/34/30 w/ Father Wolf's Speed)

Primal Urge: 3
Renown: Honor ●●●, Purity ●●●●
1st: Warning Growl (Dominance), Ward Against Humans (Warding), Partial Change (Mother Luna), Loose Tongue (Evasion)
2nd: Luna's Dictum (Dominance), Silent Fog (Weather), Father Wolf's Speed (Father Wolf)
3rd: Primal Howl (Father Wolf), Ward against Technology (Warding), Deluge (Weather)
4th: Break the Defiant (Dominance)
Essence: 12/3
Totem Boons: Survival +1, 2E

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Bite (Gauru).......................... 2(L)............ 10………9-Again
Steel-Tipped Boots...................1(B).............6.........

[spoiler=In New York and In The Past]
Circa 1938. Curiously, he's neither the person who signed the autograph, or the person the autograph's addressed to.

Type: Changeling
Court: Winter
Seeming: Wizened
Kith: Author/Gameplayer

Virtue: Charity. He's always there to lend an ear, and sometimes to guide events in the right direction.
Vice: Sloth. He makes stories happen, but he doesn't participate. He's just there to bear witness, and to tell people about it afterward.

Appearance (Mask):
Age: Indeterminate. Could be anywhere from mid-thirties to late fifties.
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: Black
Skin Tone/Complexion: Run-of-the-mill Caucasian

Hair Notes: Conservative, working-class, and mid-twentieth century. He doesn't use product, and so his hairstyle often looks rather slept-in.

Figure Notes: He's a small guy, moderately built but quite short. His facial features, beyond indicating "nonspecifically white American mutt," are profoundly unremarkable, to the point where you could hardly call him attractive or unattractive because you have failed to notice him in the first place. He invariably looks rather tired, and older than his indeterminate years: he walks with a bit of a slump, and his face is more lined than it should be. He does have a kind, sympathetic smile, though -- easily his best feature, and one that has won him more than his share of confidants.

Clothing Notes: Usually an unremarkable black suit, white shirt, and faded tie, of the sort that went out of fashion in 1939 -- along with a battered fedora of similar vintage. Always looks mildly rumpled.

Accessory Notes: A wallet, notable for its lack of any identification materials whatsoever. A set of keys, to…somewhere. A gold wedding band. A gold-and-red-lacquer tie tack, his one ostentation, showing a pair of dice coming up seven. At official functions, a gold pin bearing the emblem of Hudson's Rest.

Appearance (Mien):
Very much the same, but semitransparent, including any clothes he dons: to other changelings, he blends into the background quite literally. He has no eyes in this form, just empty holes, behind which can be seen a grey-white mist -- same thing when he opens his mouth. Being nameless tends to do this to a person.


He doesn't remember his old life. He conjectures that he must have been somewhere below middle class, and that he may have been involved in some variety of gambling, and that he knew a bootlegger or two at some point. He is absolutely certain, however, that he was -- and remains -- a New Yorker.

He imagines that His Lordship picked him because he was a good listener, and a good sport. His Lordship had led a long, eventful life, full of impossible quests, harrowing battles, and shocking turns for the worse -- and he needed someone to tell it to. So His Lordship locked him in a small room, and talked. Sometimes he would be given a pen and paper, but most of the time he just had to keep the stories in his head -- His Lordship liked having his own autobiography told back to him by his captive, and if it wasn't both accurate and suitably evocative, there would be consequences.

Sometimes His Lordship brought in a deck of cards, or a handful of dice, because his captive was good at games, too, and because His Lordship disliked being bored.

And so the man became very, very good at several things. He became good with words, and stories, and the vagaries of chance, and he became very good with names. And so, one day, he decided that it would be a very good idea to get rid of his own name altogether. That day, while His Lordship was talking, the captive walked casually over to the door, opened it, and walked out. His Lordship just kept on talking. How could he have noticed that someone had left, when nobody had really been there in the first place?

The changeling landed on Broadway, in 1927. He was quiet and unobtrusive, so he joined the Winter Court -- mostly a semi-legal organization, as with most of Hudson's Rest in those days, with one foot squarely in the demimonde of organized crime, racetrack touts, and two-bit hustlers. He was easy to talk to, so he made a lot of friends, and witnessed a whole mess of crazy adventures. But he had nobody he could talk to. Not really. He wasn't used to talking about himself.

Then, one day in 1929, he had a chance meeting with an amiable short story writer and ex-baseball columnist, over a plate of marinated herring in a Times Square delicatessen. The two of them hit it off like gangbusters. The writer was a mortal, to be sure, which was inconvenient. But he was a gambler, and a good listener, just like the changeling. The writer may not have been conscious of the fact, but a pledge was struck that night, an equal collaboration between new friends: the changeling would tell stories, of himself and of Hudson's Rest, that he wanted the world to hear; and the human would write them down, publish them, and win the public's acclaim in the changeling's stead.

Well, the two of them stuck to their pledge, and the writer's stories became very popular indeed. A lot of them were still about humans, of course, and the faerie stories had the names changed and the details switched around, but you can still see it if you read them closely: there really was a Broadback named Harry the Horse who helped talk folks into safecracking, and a Stonebones named Earthquake who saved an ensorcelled cop from a cave-in. And a funny thing happens when people pay attention to faerie stories: reality goes just a little more interesting. There was something a bit dreamlike about Broadway in the '30's: Wyrd ran high; tragedies or comedies resolved out of random chance as if they were the natural way of things; people found their true loves in the unlikeliest of places. Capers started happening. And the changeling, who was the source of these stories, found himself to be a nexus of sorts -- never quite instigating events, but always a witness, and always with a thoughtful word to help the happy endings along.

In unspoken recognition of the boon he had granted them, Hudson's Rest crowned him Winter King in 1931. He reigned for fifteen years, over a small golden age in local changeling society -- a bright spot in the dark years of the Depression. He held court in the same Times Square delicatessen, among gangsters, reporters, and ne'er-do-wells, Lost and mortal both. The human writer never quite had a handle on what his friend was up to, but friends they certainly were: two of the best.

The King resigned his position in 1946, when his friend died of cancer. He knew that the magic was soon to recede back from Broadway, and he didn't want to get in the way. By the late 1950's, the delicatessen had been bought out, but he stayed on, viewed as a polite relic of older times. By the Giuliani era, few changelings even knew he was still around.

By 2005, and the city-wide transit strike, he was the man in this story -- and since then, he has undergone something of a late-career renaissance. Previously dismissive of his own romantic prospects (quote: "I never expect to be in love, for the way I look at it love is strictly the old phedinkus"), his new bride has given him hope for the future of Broadway. Mrs. Jenny Showtime is a well-preserved Levinquick in her late '30's, with fiber-optic blue hair and glowing circuit traceries on her skin. Having been a gate in a living circuit board for her durance, she knows how the march of technology can make human experience feel obsolete; her initial philosophical connection with the old King has blossomed into something beautiful, and neither of them could be happier. For their part, the changelings of New York have rediscovered the old man's decades of experience, as he has reopened himself to them in turn: he now holds regular court at his Chinese restaurant, and even the reigning Winter Queen has come to him for advice on occasion. While he feels most comfortable in New York, he also travels a reasonable amount, as in the old days -- often to Florida, but occasionally to Europe, and farther afield as well. Wherever a good story is, that's where he'll be too…


Much as it was in 1934, really. He's amiable, easygoing, and an extremely good listener: genuinely interested in what you have to say, but never overtly intrusive, telling you exactly what you need to hear to solve your own problems. He also likes to spin a good yarn himself, often answering one story with another. He's quite old-fashioned by now, and rather set in his ways, but it's kind of endearing at this point. Protests vigorously when he's dragged into zany circumstances by questionable parties -- which happens to him with astonishing frequency -- though one gets the impression that he's secretly having a grand old time. Enjoys a drink and a good game of chance, and is ridiculously lucky at the latter…at most things, actually.

Of course, he's also a very high-Wyrd storysmith with over eighty years experience at it. As such, certain things about him are rather distinctive. He doesn't seem to have a job, or any explicable source of income, and yet still maintains himself at a comfortable working-class living standard. While he can usually be found in his restaurant, nobody has ever seen him sleep, or where he lives -- except maybe Jenny Showtime, and she's not telling. He speaks in a bouncy Manhattanite tenor, littered with Depression-era slang, but he never uses contractions (His Lordship was a stickler for linguistic precision), and almost never diverges from the present tense (His Lordship had a dim conception of time). When he doesn't want to be seen, he's very adept at just...blending into the background. Most notably, he serves as a sort of lightning rod for stories: when he's around, he seems to catalyze events into a certain kind of rollicking-yet-touching narrative. Jewel heists tend to happen, or craps games that save the orphanage, or old boxers going in for their last fight. Sometimes the stories are comic and sometimes they're tragic, but either way, he's there to witness them.

One last quirk: as he doesn't have a name anymore, people don't call him by one. Acquaintances are introduced to him without him being introduced back; he never seems to be in a position to give his signature; and on those rare occasions where he is directly spoken about in other peoples' conversations, he's referred to obliquely as "The old King," or "my friend," or just "him," and it somehow remains clear that he is the person referred to. Nobody aside from him appears to be consciously aware that this effect exists, and, having never brought it up publicly himself, he doesn't much seem to care.

Apropos of nothing, he actually likes that play they did about his stories fifty-odd years ago: he thinks the songs are catchy. Shame he never properly shows up in it, but he sort of expected that from the beginning.[/spoiler.]

Baron Isandro de Guzman y Vega
Isandro Guzman, Agent Desquite, Sandy

[spoiler=Not Needed]Type: Demon-Blooded Mortal
Profession: Demonologist


Virtue: Peaceful
Vice: Arrogant

Background: Baron Isandro de Guzman y Vega is the scion of a rather down-at-the-heels noble family that suffers under a familial curse and a demonic pact. Fully expecting to die in madness and pain in the not-so-distant future, Isandro is a well-trained sorcerer and demonologist operating under the auspices of the Lucifuge of Milan (in his day job, he's a corporate tax lawyer). For the last year or so, he's been seconded to MI-18 to serve as a liason.

[spoiler=Extended Background, Appearance, and Psychological Profile][SPOILER="Appearance"]Baron Isandro de Guzman y Vega is a man of average height (5'7'') and average weight (150 lbs). He is generally fit without being overly muscular, and possessed of long arms and legs, with the slender fingers of a pianist (or pickpocket). His body is mostly unblemished with the exception of a broken nose and a network of fine scars on his left forearm.

Isandro's face is cast in the classic Spanish mold, long and mournful and a little equine, with a jutting chin and hawk-like nose. Isandro wears his curly black hair long, and maintains a neat little beard and moustache, framing his face without obscuring it. The Spaniard's most noticeable feature, however, are his eyes. His left eye is a dark, rich brown, while his right eye is a sea-emerald green, striking and vibrant. The Guzman line has a strain of heterochromia in the blood, which seems to emerge every seventh generation...

Isandro tends to be rather vain sartorially, spending a good chunk of his pay on clothing and accessories. Most of the time he goes around in neatly-cut grey suits that evoke what he considers the right mixture of professional reserve and cutting style. In less professional circles, green polo shirts and expensive jeans create the picture (Isandro would slit his throat before being caught in a T-shirt). On a practical level, considering his eye condition, Isandro also has a large supply of sunglasses, cheap and fancy, and also has a contact lens that turns his green eye a somewhat similar shade of brown.

His familiar, Zoraida, is equally idiosyncratic a creature. She takes the form of a cat, a small black cat with a white spot on her chest and white socks on her paws. Of course, the spot on her chest takes the shape of an Egyptian ankh. She also possesses the same heterochromia as Isandro, with one eye a brilliant green, the other so dark brown as to be nearly black. She's an unobtrusive little creature, on the whole, though when the Strange Form takes the form of something larger and more malignant, a bobcat-sized creatures with paws nearly human and fangs like that of a viper.[/SPOILER.]

[SPOILER="Personality - Brief"]Isandro Guzman's personality is best understood as being the interplay of three facets.

The first is the concept of honor and nobility. Though the title of Baron of Corvera has for decades been an empty one, nevertheless Isandro de Guzman y Vega was from an early age instilled with a strong concept of what it means to be a nobleman of Spain. It means responsibility to your lessers and service to your betters, generosity towards those in need, leaving no crime unavenged, and that one's word is one's bond. In a way, it is these ideals that explain why Isandro managed to adapt relatively well to the Hunter's life. The Lady in Milan is his queen and he her vassal, slaying dragons to protect the people. Isandro is fully aware of the anachronistic element of his ideals, and most of the time deprecates himself as a latter day Don Quixote, but when the night is dark and the shadows are thick, this is what he believes.

The second facet, at odds with the first, is that Isandro Guzman is a man of words and of ideas. He's someone who has, throughout his life, always been able to talk his way out of trouble, to charm and weasel and weedle and occasionally seduce and lie his way into, and out of, a host of situations. He talked his way into the Spanish Legion, he talked his way into law school. He's not lazy, per se, especially not with regards to the Hunt, but Isandro's first reaction in any situation is to talk, not to fight. The ideal of "Truth is your bond" gives him trouble with this, and so in day to day affairs Isandro is not a very honest man, though regarding oaths he is deathly serious. Still, this is a man who believes in the power of speech.

Lastly, the third and final major facet of Isandro's personality is that he expects to die within the decade. Almost all of the Barons of Corvera have died before their 45th birthday, from wicked old Lothar Hoffman all the way down to Isandro's father. Isandro is thirty-two, and sooner or later the family legacy will catch him as well, and his nephew (his sister's son) will become the 22nd Baron. Poor kid. Living with this knowledge has giving Isandro a somewhat bipolar attitude, switching alternating between suicidal risk-taking (as happens on nearly every Hunt) and months of black depression. Isandro Guzman covers it in black humor and self-deprecation, but he can be a decidedly morbid and bitter man at times.

Beyond that, Isandro is a relatively normal person. He has a strong streak of personal vanity, spending plenty of time on his clothing and his appearance. He is currently unmarried and uncommitted, though he had been very close to Carmen Rodriguez prior to her untimely demise. His mother is still after him to get her some grandchildren though.

Isandro is what is probably best defined as a lapsed Catholic, which was a part of his noble-focused upbringing. That said, since joining the Lucifuge he's stopped going to confession, though he still attends Mass, and he no longer wears his grandfather's crucifix, since it annoys Zoraida something fierce. Politically, he is a registered member of the Conservatives, though he's generally more interested in reading election news (read: election scandals) than he is in the actual issues at hand.[/SPOILER.]

[SPOILER="The End of Lothar Hoffman"]"To Baron Hoffman!" "Prost!" "Long Life!"

It would've taken a hard heart not to be moved by the sight of such a pack of scoundrels, murderers, bandits, and mercenaries toasting their commander. They certainly had something to toast. The Thirty Year's War was over, the Treaty was signed, and after pillaging, murdering, and raping their way across Germany three times in the last ten years, Hoffman's Black Band was finally being disbanded. They'd earned their pay, for the Count-Duke of Olivares, Gaspar de Guzman y Pimentel, and now they were in Spain, the war was over, and the drinks were floating freely.

But then, Lothar Hoffman, the Black Captain, had a harder heart than most. The sight of Gunther the Knife, six feet tall and a with a sword about that size, drinking his health and gloating over ten years of back pay, brought no joy to his heart. Though the fact that now they were in a wooden church (the only building large enough for this celebration) drinking beneath a quartet of metal chandeliers burning oil, when they had burned so many Protestant churches over the years, did bring a certain smile of irony to Hoffman's lips.

Lothar Hoffman did not look like a murderer, mercenary captain, and sorcerer of the first order. He looked, as a matter of fact, like his many times descendent, a short, dandy-ish man with black hair curled about his head and a sardonic expression on his face. He accepted the toasts courteously, listening to the roar of the brigands.

"Thank you, thank you." Hoffman said sincerely, his voice as dry as a grave. "And thank our patron, for he has rewarded me handsomely with titles and riches, and I shall reward you as you deserve. So drink, and raise a toast to the Count-Duke in my name."

"You're not staying?" Roared Gunther.

"My stomach pains me." Hoffman said mildly. "I shall go and get some air."

The men snickered, for Hoffman's weak belly was a joke throughout the band. But though their captain couldn't hold his liquor worth spit, they respected him enough. Why shouldn't they, when he had brought them so much loot and plunder?

So Lothar Hoffman left the wooden church, so newly built some of the timbers were still green. So this is Corvera. The mercenary thought, gazing out at the sleepy village. It is not much, but it shall do. It shall just have to do.

The mercenary stopped by a clump of rose-bushes and turned upon the new-built church, smiling now in genuine mirth. So many churchs burned in Germany, their people forced into them, the priests crucified upon the altars, then set alight. And now, one more church in Spain to seal the pact.

"____________." The words that now left Hoffman's lips could not be transcribed, could not even be understood by those not initiated. Hoffman had learned them in Syria, from a blind man who dwelt in the desert. They served the German as well as they had the Syrian.

Inside the church, the ropes holding up the chandelier frayed and tattered, nibbled by unseen rats. As the oblivious mercenaries caroused, their doom tottered above them, and then... they fell. One by one, the four great wheels of flame fell to the ground, smashing tables and men alike. One man's back was broken, but he lived, his screams echoing throughout the building. That made Lothar smile again.

They battered against the doors, but now they were barred, held shut by a sorcerous wind. The same wind roused the flames inside, spreading them from wall to wall. The wood of the church was green, but not too green to smoulder and smoke and burst into wicked flames. Soon more men screamed, burned alive by the licking, orange-red flames. To their accompaniment, Hoffman called upon his patron one final time, to complete the pact he had made so many years ago, in distant, dusty Syria.

"Speaker-in-Thorns! Voice-of-Roses!" Hoffman called, in the same sinuous, sinister language as before. He cast no spells now, made no promises. He merely spoke. "My part is done! A score of score of souls cast into fire, as commanded, their faith broken. Now come! My promise is fulfilled, do not break your oath as you broke it once before, to the Highest!"

When the Voice-of-Roses came, it arrived softly, silently. Lesser demons, and Hoffman had bound many an imp in his time, came in bursts of brimstone and shows of fire and light. The greater needed no such theatrics, for they knew their power. As with men, so with the dwellers of the Infernal.

The voice smelled of rose water, a pleasant, soothing sound upon the ear. The frisson of fear descended down Hoffman's spine, but he spoke once more. "Let me live! Life everlasting, life unceasing! Let no fire burn me, let no poison sicken me. Let blades turned aside from my skin, let plague pass me by. Let time forget my name, let it leave me behind. I spurn time, let it spurn me!"

In the darkness of the Spanish evening, beside the burning church filled with betrayed men, the man that was Lothar Hoffman ceased to be. Something else lived on for a time yet, but to call it a man... would be difficult.[/SPOILER.]

[SPOILER="Background, Part One"]The first Baron, Lothar Hoffman, was a German mercenary captain who had served the Spanish Habsburgs during the Thirty Years War, back in the 17th century. Following the war, he accompanied his erstwhile employers back to Spain, and was given a small barony in the Castille for his services.

In truth, Lothar Hoffman was a sorcerer and demonologist of not unimpressive skill. What bargain he struck with the Infernal forces will perhaps never be known, but whatever it was it protected him from the still quite active Spanish Inquisition, and secured him power and comfort for the rest of his days. Well, until he was killed by 'unseen forces' in 1653, dismembered in the middle of the night and with his limbs spread to the four corners of Corvera, his torso tossed in a midden heap, and his head never found. The official record is that bandits killed him.

Over the centuries Hoffman's family, now under the Spanish name of Guzman, remained in power in Corvera. The family was generally unimpressive, never rising high in the service of the Spanish kings. Though they did go through Barons at a remarkably rapid clip, with not a one dying peacefully. Nevertheless, they survived the upheavals of Napoleon and the Carlist Wars, and were fair set to survive Franco as well. Ultimately, what led to the overthrow of the Guzmans was not political upheaval, but financial fecklessness. The 17th Baron Guzman lost every penny he owned in the Stock Market crash of 1929, and shortly thereafter blew his brains out.

The 18th Baron, Isandro's great-grandfather, proved to be the most intelligent Baron for about a century in either direction, sold the lands and moved to Gibraltar, securing British citizenship for the family. There he parlayed the family titles and connections into a small but successful legal practice, until he was murdered by Fascists during a business trip to Italy.

The 21st Baron Guzman, Isandro, was born in his family's modest home in Gibraltar, in 1968. He was a clever, personable boy, raised by his father (who died in 1987 in a freak automobile accident) to understand the true code of the nobility. Even if they no longer ruled Corvera, he taught Isandro, still there were expectations of the Baron Guzman. Isandro had a duty to the people, of Corvera, of Iberia, of the world. The young boy listened seriously to these tales, and took them to heart.

Isandro sailed through school in the top ten percent of his class, though if one were to be honest this had more to do with his ability to charm classmates into helping him study or use their notes than it did with his inherent intellect. In the 1986, Isandro entered the University of Liverpool. It was while he was finishing his studies there (pre-law), that Isandro Guzman's life became very strange.

He began to see flickers of shadow out of the corner of his eyes, like a cat with his own eyes. He heard whispers in the night, almost understandable but always just outside of meaning. He woke up with wounds on his arms, blood seeping from a dozen small puncture wounds. Isandro thought he was going crazy. Then his twenty-third birthday came, and with it the messengers of the Lucifuge, and Isandro knew he had gone crazy.

They explained the situation to him, kindly and gently, especially Carmen Rodriguez, a beautiful woman of Basque descent only a few years older than Isandro. The dazed law student and semi-nobleman agreed to visit Milan, and it was there that he saw true beauty. The Lady of Milan and Isandro spoke for hours, and she told him about his visions, and about Lothar Hoffman, and what his heritage, and his desting meant. Over the course of that one conversation, Baron Isandro de Guzman y Vega became one of the Lucifuge, and willing vassal... and slave... of the Lady in Milan.

In the years that followed, Isandro finished his law degree and joined the corporate wing of a massive international conglamorate, one that did not miss his periodic forays into Hunter-dom. Isandro learned the ways of the Castigation and the Goetic Gospels, and his first task was to bind the odd-eyed cat to his flesh, to become his familiar. He named it Zoraida, after the enchanting woman from Cervantes.[/SPOILER.]

[SPOILER="The Bloody Hunt"]"So explain to me again why do I, the Baron Isandro de Guzman y Vega, have to stand out here and watch the car while the rest of you go inside and get yourselves killed?"

"Because, Sandro, you're the baby of the group." Carmen Rodriguez said with a smile, which eased the sting a bit. "So be a dear and keep our exits covered."

"I am not a baby." Isandro said with a grin, checking the military surplus rifle over for a fifth time. A Heckler & Koch G36 assault rifle, which one day Isandro would figure out how the cell got. Though since Arturo was an ex-lieutenant, maybe best not to ask. "I'll have you know that I am a full-blooded male."

"I know." Carmen reached over and tweaked his nose, careful to keep her own rifle pointed away. "Believe me, I know."

"Get a room you two..." Arturo Santiago said with a long-suffering sigh. Isandro shut up promptly. Arturo was barely five feet, four inches tall, was as wide as he was tall, and knew seven ways of killing you with his left pinky. Former special forces, Arturo was the cell's leader, and not a man to be trifled with.

"Sorry Arturo." Carmen said, though she didn't sound very sorry. This perked up Isandro's spirits considerable. "Carlos, go over the intelligence reports one last time?"

"Certainly, my beautiful lady." Carlos Morales said with a cheeky smile of his own. The weedy accountant rattled off the information the cell had gathered over two weeks of surveillance. "Every weekend, Senor Hernandez has a party. Lots of booze, lots of drugs, a few orgies, the usual depraved CFO."

"Sounds like fun." Isandro quipped, earning another glare from Arturo.

"Isn't it just?" Carlos agreed, which got him a glare of his own. The accountant was less intimidated by his long-time boss, however, and continued. "Problem is that not everyone who goes in, that is, everyone who is young, nubile, and innocent at least up until they enter the house, comes out."

"And you're sure the mirror-eyes are responsible?" Carmen asked.

"Well it's not Hernandez, he's genuine." Carlos said, and Isandro nodded. He and Morales had gone over the Chief Financial Officer's bank accounts and credit reports, which had involved a certain amount of fraud, but it was for a good cause. "But those three... yes, those eyes are not normal, and they give me the creeps."

This was generally nodded to. Carlos had a sixth sense for things supernatural, even without his unique bloodline, which was how he had gotten into the cell in the first place.

"So we've got three targets, who should be in the house tonight. They always come early, and Hernandez is busy dealing with some late-night paperwork." Arturo said, to which Isandro whistled innocently. He had been proud of that. "One older man, looks to be in his fifties. One younger man, about Isandro's age, might be ex-military as well. And one woman. All prefer old clothing and have eyes that reflect the light. We go in, we take them out, and we get out."

"Yes sir." "Right Arturo." "Sure Boss." Came the chorus of replies.

"Then let's go." Arturo said, picking up the antique broadsword that was his weapon of choice. "See you soon Guzman."

"Right sir..." Isandro sighed, watching his three comrades enter the old house. There were no lights on inside, but from his place across the park, Isandro could easily see his three cellmates disappear around the house, entering via a basement window. Isandro checked his watch and waited.

After a few moments, Isandro felt a chill across the back of his neck, and then a rustling whisper. Shadows appeared in the corner of his eyes, sinuous, sinister shadows with emerald and brown eyes. To Isandro, this was normal, a fact which occasionally made the Spaniard laugh like a loon.

"Buenas Noches, Zee." Isandro greeted his familiar, waving to the tiny cat in the shadows. It still took some concentration to actually see Zoraida, but Isandro was getting good at it. 'Quiet night, hmm?"

Zoraida didn't deign to answer her master. Isandro suspected that his familiar thought he talked too much. Isandro suspected that his familiar was right, too. They waited in amiable silence, two pairs of eyes, brown and emerald each.

Then a scream cut through the night.

"...That was... that was Carmen." Isandro said, his blood running cold. There was another scream, this time deeper. "Carlos."

"Mierde, mierde... go help, watch the escape, go help, watch the escape... Damn, watch the car Zee." Isandro made up his mind quickly. If Carmen was in trouble, if Carlos and Arturo were in trouble...

It was at this point that someone tapped a cold finger on Isandro's shoulder. Zoraida hissed in surprise, even as Isandro turned, raising his rifle. He saw the face only for a moment, but he'd remember it to his grave.

He was short, a good three or four inches shorter than Isandro, with the rounder face of someone from the New World. His hair was black, and though he seemed young, his face had an ashen cast to it. He grinned, showing white teeth, even as his eyes reflected the light like a cat's. He was dressed in a pristine black suit, but neither Zoraida nor Isandro had heard him approach.

"Good night, Senor." The young man said with a smile, then drove his fist into Isandro's jaw. The world exploded in pain as Isandro was dimly aware of being lifted off his feet by the blow and thrown back at least a dozen feet. Then his skull hit the pavement, and Isandro knew no more.


At 2:13 AM, a neighbor called the fire department about a burning house. When the firemen and paramedics arrived, they found the home of Senor Hernandez aflames, and a nearly-dead young man on the pavement outside, with an assault rifle in his hands.

The paramedics took him to the hospital, where a fellow hunter heard of the situation and managed to move him to a safer place before the police took an interest in him. It would be nearly 24 hours before the doctors at the second hospital managed to get Isandro to wake up. Isandro, they told him, was lucky to be alive. His jaw was broken, his skull was fractured when he hit the pavement, and he was suffering from exposure as well.

Later, Isandro learned that the firemen had dragged eleven bodies from the ashes of Hernandez's home. Carmen, Arturo, and Carlos were among them.[/SPOILER.]

[SPOILER="Background, Part Two"]The Gibraltarian cell which Isandro joined was led by Arturo Santiago, an ex-special forces soldier who had somehow escaped the notice of the Lucifuge's genealogists till he was nearly 40 and locked in a mental institute for the voices he heard. They got him out, however. The second member of the cell was Carlos Morales, a small accountant who was without a doubt the most intelligent man Isandro had ever met, as well as an accomplished demon-binder. Philippo Vasquez was their heavy weapons man, a huge brute of a human being with a fondness for Shakespeare and Chaucer and a professor in his day job. The last member of the group, Carmen Rodriguez, was their agent provacateur, a sultry beauty who at needed times could transform into a hellhound, 350 lbs of snarling fury. This was the world that Isandro had joined.

The first two years during which Isandro was a member of the cell were quiet, the team focusing on closing a 'bad place' within eastern Spain. It was a room in a motel that every twelfth night would open a channel into the Shadow. And any unfortunate guests in #67 were possessed. Fortunately, the spirits were usually not outright malevolent, but they were bizarre, disturbing to those around them, and took very poor care of their hosts. It took the cell most of those two years to hunt down and exorcise the spirits, and then backtrack their actions until they finally found the room of the motel which was causing the troubles. Carlos and Isandro managed to get the motel temporarily closed down, followed by a solid month of setting protective wards into every surface of the room. Eventually, the wound closed.

In 1992, the cell began an investigation into a gruesome set of murders. Prostitutes were being dumped into the Manzanares River in central Madrid, throats cut. This would be unfortunate enough on its own, except that they had a distressing tendency to not stay dead, leading to the death of at least one mortician's assistant. The cell staked out the red-light districts of Madrid for over a month while Isandro and Carlos tried to figure out what was happening occultly. Ultimately, it was Philippo who solved the case, noticing a former student of his hanging around the districts too often. It turned out that the young man had Awakened into a Moros Mage, and was using the ladies of the night for both his personal lusts and his magical curiosity. Carmen had taken a great deal of satisfaction in ripping off his head (literally) at the close of that case.

In late 1995, the cell was called in by a friend of Arturo's in the Malleus Malleficarum to cleanse a haunted house, where a child of nine had inadvertantly burned his entire family alive in 1934. The hunt was a complete fiasco. The Malleficarum agent turned out to be possessed by the father of the family, whose wife managed to possess Philippo when the cell entered the place. Arturo, Isandro, Carlos, and Carmen barely escaped with their lives, only after Arturo was forced to shoot Philippo in the throat, while Isandro smashed the priest's skull. It was his first kill. They were eventually able to get the house declared unstable and a fence put around it. A sorry victory for two lives.

In early 1999, the remaining cell began their last mission. A businessman in Madrid was throwing parties from which not everyone returned. The cell suspected vampires and staked out the man's house for a few weeks. Having identified the supernaturals, Arturo, Carlos, and Carmen went in, leaving Isandro to watch the car. They didn't come back out again.

After this, Isandro would work alone, and at the same time in closer contact with the Lucifuge leadership in Milan. His next mission, in 2002, after he had recovered in body if not in soul, was to hunt down a werewolf spotted in Donana National Park in Catalonia. Isandro spent about six weeks on the investigation, determined by dint of laborious investigation (well, Zoraida's laborious investigation) that he was a young pup of barely nineteen, and that the fresh werewolf had yet to kill anything more threatening than a deer. Nevertheless, Isandro had a very friendly chat with the young werewolf, and put the fear of god, or at least of Isandro Guzman of the Lucifuge, into the young layabout.

In October of 2003, the Lucifuge dispatched Isandro to the Phillipines, where he was to liase with a local cell of Lucifuge and help them track down a Pennangalan that had been praying on the poor in one of Manila's slums. The hunt was another one of those epic screwups that plagued all hunters, albeit this time a less fatal one. It turned out that the Pennangalan had attracted the attention of a Task Force: Valkyrie attack squad, and so just as Isandro had almost managed to track the Pennangalan to its lair and to where he was convinced it had associates, the TF:V swooped in and laid it to waste with a pair of flamethrowers. A very loud shouting match between Isandro and the TF:V major had followed, ending with the major decking Isandro. Hence the broken nose.

The next year, in June of 2005, Isandro was sent to Mexico to figure out why a lone Lucifuge in Tijuana had stopped reporting in to Milan. Isandro's superiors suspected one of Mexico's active vampires had taken him out, but what the Spaniard discovered was a much more sordid truth. The Lucifuge had entered into the pay of one of the narcotrafficantes, using his powers to smuggle high-grade cocaine and heroin into the United States. Isandro, on orders from Milan, arranged for the traitor to die in drug-bust by the Mexican military, bribing the captain there to make sure that the traitor died. This was the second person whom Isandro had killed, even if the Spaniard was twenty miles away when the fatal bullet struck home.

Nevertheless, the Lucifuge was pleased, and after a short visit to Milan, Isandro Guzman was given a new assignment, one which would stretch his grasp of the English language to the fullest. Isandro was to be sent to London, to serve as the Lucifuge's liason with the Britain's occult intelligence service, MI-18.[/SPOILER.]

[SPOILER="In-Depth Psychological Profile"]Positive Qualities: Isandro's biggest positive quality, I think, is that he's a very tolerant, non-judgemental person, unlike the standard stereotype of Hunters. It helps here that Sandy is, objectively speaking, a demon-summoning sorcerer who transforms into a hideous monstrosity and has a witch's cat as a familiar. He views werewolves, changelings, prometheans, and so on as not being really any worse than him, and so he's got a very 'talky' attitude towards monsters, and could be very easily persuaded to, say, tag along with a pack of werewolves to perform an exorcism on some spirits-possessed. This extends to people too, of course. Even though he's a (lapsed) Catholic and leans conservative in politics, he's very easy-going with regards to social-issues such as adultery or homosexuality.

Occasionally, this tolerance leads to outright absurdity, specifically with regards to demons. Isandro tends to downplay the malice of demons as a group and instead approach things on a case-by-case basis, which will earn him some odd looks. There are two general exceptions to his tolerance, the first of which are vampires (who have to feed on humans to survive, and so tend to get a harder scrutiny than the aforementioned werewolves or changelings), and the second of which are stupid hunters. Very few things annoy Isandro more than blind fanaticism, and he's likely to equate, morally, a vampire draining a man entirely of blood and a Malleus Malleficarum priest cutting the head off an innocent changeling.

Or to put it in another phrasing, Isandro has very few biases and prejudices, and takes things on a case-by-case basis, with his morality being a mix of knightly honor, military virtue, and legal ethics. Don't mistake tolerance for weakness, though. If someone commits murder, Isandro will hunt them down.

Not quite as importantly but still present, Isandro tends to be very friendly (if snarky) to people, tries to be polite, and has a strong sense of chivalry towards women. Basically, Sandy will try to get along with everyone, even his enemies, and figures that just because you're about to summon a demon to tear someone's head off is no reason to be rude. This may sometimes come off as a little patronizing, but Isandro is generally charming enough that this doesn't happen.

Like all Hunters, Isandro Guzman has a strong interventionist streak and a powerful sense of justice. If he sees a problem, he tries to fix it. He has little conception of the idea that "someone else will handle it". If something needs to be done, then very often Isandro thinks that he's the one who should do it.

Flaws: Isandro Guzman's fatal flaw is Pride. It was the flaw that laid low Lucifer, after all. Hubris, to use the Greek term, in almost Mage-esque sense. Isandro thinks that because he has the power to change things, because he has the power to help people and right wrongs, because he has the power to summon demons, he should. He has little conception that some things are best left alone, or are beyond his power.

To put it another way, he has a very fearless, can-do attitude because he really thinks he can do it. Isandro whistles up the foul forces of Hell and makes deals with them because he genuinely thinks he can control them. If confronted with a challenge, Isandro can be fearless to the point of recklessness. He's not stupid, he'll plan and lay contingencies and so on, but it's very hard to convince Isandro that he should back down from something. He has a somewhat poor conception of his own weaknesses, or rather, he knows he has them, but he tends to dismiss them as not important.

His pride is also exacerbated by his manic-depressive tendencies. One of the symptoms of the Mania stages is, after all, setting and trying to accomplish grandiose goals. (More on this below)

His second greatest flaw is Sloth. In this case, it's the older definition of Sloth, the inability to feel joy. Isandro is pretty active, especially during hunts, but after Hunts he often slips into periods of melancholy and gloom. He'll blame himself for anything that went wrong during the Hunt, for not catching the fiend sooner, for a million little things that aren't his fault. He'll meditate on the fact that he's probably going to die soon, given that almost every Baron Corvera has died by age 45. During these periods Isandro usually just mopes about his house, ignores hunting and the Lucifuge to focus on his legal work, and is generally an emo mess. This is, of course, the second stage of mania-depression, the depression period (Again, more below). This stage probably won't be very visible during the campaign, just because Depressed Isandro isn't as interesting a hero as Manic Isandro, but it's there and will come up in down-time.

Those are the two main character flaws Isandro has. He has some lesser problems with Lust and Envy, but nothing nearly as severe. Isandro is a charmer and something of a casanova, but he tries to be chivalric with women, and his lifestyle and mood-swings make it difficult for him to stay in any long-term relationship. The closest he came was fellow hunter Carmen Rodriguez, and that ended poorly. His mother, notably, continues to nag him to get married and sire the next generation, but Isandro is quietly terrified about the idea of exposing children to having him for a father. Envy tends to show up in Isandro's gloomy stages, when he starts to wonder why does he have to sacrifice everything so that other people, who are variously stupid, petty, and selfish, get to live a good life. They can take their lumps.

Greed, Gluttony, and Wrath are largely absent in Isandro's personality. He likes his pleasures and he likes to live comfortably, but he's always had a good standard of living and doesn't have any strong desire for a higher one, at least beyond the daydreaming level of "wouldn't it be nice if?" His general amiability and tolerance, as well as the fact that he's usually very much a Non-Action Guy keep him free of the kind of raw anger that Wrath requires. When Isandro fights, it tends to be with a rather clinical precision and a certain amount of joie de vivre, reveling in his power (Pride), not in the pain he inflicts (Wrath).

[Side Note: Isandro tends to have a somewhat strange view on his demonic background that keeps him pretty free of the typical "In the Blood" angsting (objectively, because that trope is way overdone). All demons were originally Angels, right? (He's a Catholic, recall, and so adopts a very Catholic/Medieval Christian view of demons). Just because they later turned evil doesn't mean that they're inherently evil, after all. To say that because Isandro's predecessors turned evil is to espouse Lamarckian evolution, and that's nonsense. So Isandro views his inherent powers as being neither good nor evil. He'd argue it's equally correct to say that he has Angelic blood as to say he has Demonic blood, since they're the same thing on a genetic level. Any proper theologian would give Sandy a rap on the ear.]

What Isandro Fights: On the whole, Isandro isn't really aware of the fact that he has a significant Pride problem. Which was, as I recall, the reason that Pride was considered the deadliest sin, because it alone prevented one from seeking help and understanding that one was flawed. You could recognize that you are lustful or angry, but Pride forbade this.

Instead, what Isandro struggles against the most is the fact that he suffers from a relatively mild case of Bipolar disorder, that is, Manic Depression. What this means is that he has cycling episodes of mania and depression, extreme mood swings if you will, interspersed with periods of being fairly 'normal'. Isandro's cycles tend to take weeks or even months (as opposed to the much more debilitating rapid cycling, where the mood swings are hours apart).

During his Manic stage (properly speaking, Hypomania, since Isandro has a mild case of it), Isandro has an increased mood, talks and thinks faster than usual, has an inflated sense of personal ability, and sets (and sometimes achieves) grander goals than usual. The downside is that Isandro will more easily do things which in a saner mindframe he'd consider to be vastly ill-advised. ("Charge a werewolf? What could possible go wrong?")

During his Depressive stage, he's generally gloomy, sad, feels copious guilt, and loses interest in pleasurable activities. He sleeps a lot, becomes markedly less pleasant to talk to (if less irritable), and in extreme cases starts pondering getting ahead of the Guzman family tradition by killing himself. In the blackest period he had, right after his cell was destroyed, he tried to slit his wrists, but failed to accomplish anything except landing himself in a Madrid emergency room. Of course, since then he's learned better where the veins are...

[Practically speaking, we'll mostly see Sandy in his more Manic stage, simply because it's more interesting to look at "zany-scheme Sandy who tries to bluff his way into meeting the Prince" than "gloomy suicidal Sandy who stays in his room and mopes".]

Sandy was diagnosed with this back in the army, but it was too mild a case to get him discharged. For a few years he was on medication (particularly topiramate), having been prescribed during his La Milli days, but gave up on it shortly after becoming a Hunter. Topiramate has among its side-effects memory loss and confusion, both of which are rather unhealthy when dealing with slavering things from the nine circles of Hell. Strictly speaking, Isandro should be at least on Lithium tablets, but after the topiramate incident he's decidedly distrustful of medications. Psychiatric counseling is right out.[/SPOILER.]

[SPOILER="Spanish for Dummies (That is, Spanish for Me)"]Hello == Hóla!
Good day == Buenos diás
Good evening == Buenos tardes
Good night == Buenos noches
Good bye == Adiós
Excuse me. == Permiso.
Pardon me. == Disculpame.
Pleased to meet you. == Encantado de conocerle.
You're welcome == de nada
Don't mention it == no hay de que
Yes ==
No == No
That depends == Depende
No I don't know == No lo sé
It doesn't matter == No importa
I don't mind == No me molesta
Of course! == ¡Claro!
True! == Es verdad!
With pleasure == Con gusto
Why not? == Por qué no?
Who's there? == Quién es?
I am fine. == Estoy bien.

And finally, Sandy's favorite phrase:

I haven't got a clue. == No tengo ni idea[/SPOILER.][/spoiler.]

Rank: 3
Mental 4; Physical 2; Social 6
Willpower: 1
Arete: 5
Notable Powers: Devil's Advocate, Castigations 5 (Calling Forth the Pit, Mandate of Hell, Shackles of Pandemonium, Familiar, +1)


Rory "Web Stalker" McMillan

[spoiler=Following Avery to the Rockies]Tribe: Blood Talon
Auspice: Irraka.
Born: 1990

Virtue: Curious
Vice: Gullible
Long-Term Aspiration: To prove the existence of the Illuminati

Background: Rory's personal history lacks for anything like a terrible tragedy unless one considers the general cruelty of children towards those who stand out. Rory was the sort of child who would often get picked on for being more interested in things like computers, or just who was involved in the conspiracy to ascend the Moonchild as the king of the new Aeon.

Especially at the tender age of 12, this makes one the target of some ridicule, so instead of former enthusiasm for sharing his passions with others, Rory became more insular, drawing into himself and the internet, forming a world of social contacts for himself that could be half a world away and wouldn't exactly judge him for claiming that the death of Princess Di was an attempt by the monarchy to work a mystical working to reassert the dominance of the Monarchy over the common people.

Well, maybe a bit for the last part, but he didn't have the evidence to back it up so he can't quite blame them.

His first change was in its own odd way, one of the best things that could ever happen to him. After all, it opened up an entire world of the weird to map into his theories, and his being a werewolf to him at least explained some (but not all) of his social awkwardness.

Of course, now he has to deal with the fact that some of his conspiracy theories are in fact, not only possibly correct, but only scratching the surface.

And that he has a boyfriend.

The last part is honestly the bit most amazing to his packmates.

Personality: Rory is more than a little socially awkward, and he knows it. He's fascinated by the strange interrelations of the occult world, and wants to know what makes things tick. Combine that with a talent for computer hacking, and it can create conversations so utterly laden with jargon as to be incomprehensible to outsiders. He's aware of this fact, and has been trying to improve, and having a relationship is one of those things that will hopefully help.

Age: 19
Eye Color: Grey.
Hair Color: Black.
Skin Tone/Complexion: Fair.
Hair Style: Short and messy, a combination of bedhead and can't be bothered.

Figure Notes: Rory is, for a computer geek, actually surprisingly fit, though a bit on the lean side. While not prone to get sick, at the same time he does tire easily, but it's more of a matter of "Why are we doing this again? Bored now..." than any real physical exhaustion. While not quite SL, he is definitely within the category of adorkable.

Clothing Notes: Jeans, T-shirts, hooded sweatshirts. Usually branded with some form of obscure geekery which he finds rather funny or clever, but is probably lost on anyone but him or someone who thinks like him. (Aka, the ThinkGeek catalog)

Accessories: A laptop bag and various bits of computer paraphernalia

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 4, Wits 4, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 3 (4/6/5/3), Dexterity 4 (4/5/6/6), Stamina 2 (3/4/4/3)
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 3, Composure 2

Mental Skills: Academics (Research) 3, Computer (Hacking) 5, Investigation 4, Occult (Conspiracy Theory x2) 4, Politics 1, Science 2
Physical Skills: Brawl 3, Drive 1, Larceny 3, Stealth (Unobtrusive) 4
Social Skills: Expression 2, Subterfuge (Online) 2

Merits: Contacts 2, Resources 3, Status (Crimson Storm) 3
Lair: Rundown Flat; Skill Area (Computer) 2

Willpower: 5
Harmony: 6
Universal Banes: Silver, Aura of Menace, Death Rage
Personal Banes: Chronological Trigger – Rage (Full Moon)

Initiative: 6 (6/7/8/8)
Defense: 4 (4/5/6/6)
Health: 7 (9/11/10/7)
Size: 5 (6/7/6/4)
Speed: 12 (13/16/19/17)

Primal Urge: 3
Renown: Cunning ●●●, Glory ●, Wisdom ●●●
1st: Sense the Flow (Information), Feet of Mist (Stealth), Mask of Rage (Rage)
2nd: Tongues (Information), Running Shadow (Stealth)
3rd: Babel Effect (Information), Blending (Stealth), Distractions (New Moon)
Rituals: ●●
1st: Rite of Dedication, Call Beast, Chiminage, Preserving the Trail
2nd: Call Gaffling, Rouse the Fetish, Banish Spirit, Scarlet Messenger, Spirit Conveyance
Essence: 12/3
Totem Boons:

Attacks.......................................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Bite (Gauru)......................................2L...........11………9-Again

Rachel Harcourt-Ogilvy

Type: Wolf-Blooded Mortal
Profession: MI-18 Hunter (Former)


Virtue: Courageous
Vice: Violent

Background: If there is no glamour in counter-occultism, Rache did not get the memo. A stunning redhead/brunette/blonde (delete as appropriate based on her current guise) with a long, aristocratic face and legs to die for, Rache has been training for the Hunt since she was eight years old. Her family is old, hereditary hunters going back to the 19th century, when a distant relative founded the Ashwood Abbey. Through a combination of being more cautious than being given credit for and being noticeably prolific, the Harcourt-Ogilvy's have managed to survive, and Rache learned about the Great Hunt when she was just a child on her grandmother's knee.

It was all a great game, and it's stayed that way, even when the werewolves devoured her father in front of her on a botched hunt in Scotland when she was barely sixteen. She escaped -- though not unscarred -- and came to the conclusion then and there that she needed something more serious than a hunting shotgun filled with silver birdshot. Luckily for Rache, she had an uncle in the Home Office, and he steered her to MI-18. She still has a shotgun filled with silver, but now it's a fully-automatic AA-12 with silver flechettes.

Rache has a powerful personality, vibrant and domineering in equal measures. She's willful, in all senses of the term, but she makes up for it by being the kind of hunter that very few at MI-18 can manage to be. A lifetime of training does pay off. She also has a sixth sense for werewolves, and a great facility for infiltration and disguise.

What Rache doesn't know is that she's a wolf-blood, and that one fine day, Ever-Shifting Luna will have the last laugh on this werewolf-slayer.

Rank: 3
Mental 3; Physical 7; Social 2
Willpower: 1
Arete: 5
Notable Powers: Professional Hunter, Master of Disguise

Agansing Thapa

[spoiler=Sent Back to Nepal]Type: Mortal
Profession: MI-18 Hunter, Sergeant on detached duty from the Royal Gurkha Rifles

Virtue: Fortitude As the British Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw once said, "If a man says he is not afraid of dying, he is either lying or is a Gurkha." Agansing isn't quite that brave, but he does have a mountain of training, familial heritage, and cultural pressure that makes him do whatever he is asked for, however dangerous, without flinching.
Vice: Wrath That same mountain can also be a very heavy burden, and while Agansing will die of shame before he admits it, it is a burden he'd rather not bear. This can make him snappish and short-tempered when under stress.

Background: The British Government has had a very curious relationship with the Gurkhas (strictly speaking, members of one of several Indo-Tibeto-Mongolian tribes from the Gorkha district of Nepal). Originally enemies, they were recruited into the army of the British Raj, and by extension into the British Army. The Gurkhas have a ferocious reputation as some of the best infantry in the world, brave, disciplined, and with a slightly worrisome fondness for chopping heads and limbs off with those infamous khukri knives of theirs. Despite independence more than fifty years past, there are still Gurkha regiments in the British army, (others had joined the Indian Army, with the decision being left up to a vote in each regiment).

MI-18 in particular has been fond of recruiting Gurkhas as field agents, ever since the agency's founding in WWI. Their reasoning is two-fold. First, if one must deal with battle-crazed werewolves, ichor-spitting demons, and fanatical cultists, having a Gurkha on your side is an excellent leveler. Secondly, if one must conduct sensitive, secret, and often highly illegal operations on British soil, it is best to do so using someone who'll be going back to the foothills of Nepal after his tour of duty instead of sticking around in Birmingham. The third reason was that MI-18 had considered that the more 'superstitious' colonials would have an easier time processing the supernatural than ethnic Britons. MI-18 tries to pretend that they never thought this, and bringing it up is impolitic.

Agansing Thapa comes from this tradition. His father, uncle, and grandfather all served with MI-18, and when the bluff, easygoing young man joined the Royal Gurkha Rifles, he was quickly tapped to be inducted into the Department of the Rum and Uncanny. He's served with MI-18 for all of his adult life now, nearly twenty years, which has taken him to every inch of the British Isles, as well as much of the Commonwealth or old colonial possessions. He has been to Sierra Leone, and Kenya, and has hunted in the deserts of Australia and the frozen wastes of Canada. In return for his service, MI-18 has paid him well, given him high-quality technical training, and also trained him in a few rather dangerous psychic techniques. Agansing sometimes jokes that they taught him to spontaneously manifest brain lesions so that they won't have to pension him off. He is only about half joking.

In person, Agansing is an amiable Nepalese gentleman in his late thirties, a lapsed Buddhist and overly-avid enthusiast of ham radio, as well as the terror of departmental card games. He's used his time with MI-18 to pursue his interests in high technology, and spends his time between active duty working at the Armoury.

TMental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 4, Resolve 3
PPhysical Attributes: Strength 4, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3
SSocial Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation 2, Composure 4

TMental Skills: Academics 2, Computer 2, Crafts 2, Investigation 2, Medicine 1, Occult (Spirits) 1, Science (Radio & Communication Technology) 4
PPhysical Skills: Athletics 4, Brawl 3, Firearms (Assault Rifle, Heavy Weapons) 4, Larceny 1, Stealth 4, Survival 4, Weaponry (Khukri) 4
SSocial Skills: Empathy 2, Intimidation 3, Socialize (Military) 4, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 1

Merits: Fast Reflexes 2, Favored Weapon (Khukri) 2, Fighting Style (
• Shoot First
Add Firearms to initiative
•• Tactical Reload
Reload as a reflexive action
Combat Marksmanship) 2, Fighting Style (
AP 4 to all melee attacks, grapples at a +1, full defense against all attackers in melee
MAC) 4, Iron Stamina 3, Languages (Chinese, English; Native is Nepali) 2, Quick Draw (Firearms, Melee) 2, Resources 3
Standard MI-18 Merits: Status (
Access to 1 Endowment, +2 New ID Dots
MI-18; Gurkha) 3,
+3 dice to resist any attempt to bend the Hunter to one’s will, be it magical (spells) or mundane (Intimidation, Persuasion)
Indomitable 3, Languages (ConLang) 1, New Identity (Agansing Thapa) 4, New Identity (Throwaway Government IDs x3) 1 each,
Soldier; Firearms, Survival, Weaponry
Professional Training (Military Contacts) 5, Status (British Government; "This is a matter of National Security") 3

Endowments: Teleinformatics 5:
Understand an object
1B; Teleinformatics+Crafts
Normal investigation of a scene at instant speed
1B; Teleinformatics+Investigation
Scene Read,
Find documents relating to a suspect at 3 successes per document in minutes
1B per roll; Teleinformatics+Computer
Deep Background,
Follow a target through cameras. For an additional Willpower, the Hunter can use this ability through animals
1L (○);Teleinformatics+Streetwise
Temporarily increase one skill to 5 dots or all skills in a category to 3 dots
1L or 1A; Teleinformatics+Larceny

Willpower: 7
Morality: 6

Health: 8
Initiative: 10 (14 w/ drawn firearm)
Defense: 4
Armor: 2/4B (Dragon Armor)
Speed: 13

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Strike .........……………………0B………………….7…….…………AP 4
Khukri ..........….………………2L………………….11………………AP 4, 9-again on called shots
Colt M1911A1.....................3L...................11.................7 ammo, 30/60/120 range, Silenced
Enfield L85A1......................4L..................13.................30 ammo, 150/300/600 range, fully-automatic 2(2/3/4), laser-sight (+1 in Close Range)

Valerie Summers

[spoiler=Retired]Type: Mortal (Very slightly psychic)
Profession: Busker, Dr. Doolittle

Virtue: Charity: Selfishness is a concept that Valerie’s never quite managed to internalize. She thinks nothing of giving her time, her effort, or her very limited possessions to others, if they’re really needed.
Vice: Sloth: It’s just too easy for Valerie to give up, give in, and drop out. She never stands up for herself, and rarely for others. When things get too hard, she’ll run away, or she’ll zone out, but she won’t confront them.

Background: Valerie grew up in a nice, middle-class family. She had a house with a yard, she had both her parents, she had a dog, she went to a good school and she always had friends. Somehow, things didn’t work out. Her parents never really disapproved of her “dreamer” sensibilities: she often stared out the window at the trappings of suburbia… and focused past all that. Watching birds at the feeder. Clouds drift across the sky. Two white cabbage moths whirling in some mad aeronautic dance. They punished her for it, and it only encouraged Valerie’s behavior.

And it translated over to school. In high school and college, Valerie went to class stoned or bombed, because it was easier to disconnect, then. Far simpler to unhook oneself from all the day-to-day reality and just float free. Music classes were the only ones in which Valerie excelled, and she took up the violin, and she was good at it. It was her only talent, the only thing she really cared about.

It couldn’t last, and it didn’t. One fine evening, Valerie received a letter that her financial aid had been revoked due to her persistently atrocious grades. Valerie’s still not quite sure why she made the decision she did. She was drunk at the time, and possibly stoned, but even so, she packed a duffel bag with clothes and her violin, and then she left the dorm in a haze. Valerie never went back.

Even when she sobered up, she didn’t go back. Some of it was that she couldn’t face her family after it, couldn’t bear to hear their lectures and their demands to shape up. And some of it was that she was, for the first time in her life, free. It was glorious. Really, the only regret Valerie has is that she never got to see her dog again.

For a while, Valerie’s money was enough to let her live in hostels. But then it ran out, and soon she took to sleeping on the streets and busking for money. It wasn’t that bad. London wasn’t very cold, and Valerie always had a hardy constitution. She made enough money from playing in subways and parks to keep herself fed, and when things got rough, there were homeless shelters, or a string of on-again, off-again boyfriends.

These days, Valerie mostly lives with Aidan Flynn, a sometimes-verbally-abusive young man who makes his money from odd jobs and the dole. Between the two of them, they have a tiny Council flat at Timsdown West. Most days, Valerie spends playing music, classic melodies, Gaelic songs she picked up from Aidan, and little ditties of her own devising. It’s not a great life, but at least Valerie’s free.

Description: Valerie is short and lithe, only 5’3” or so, and perhaps twenty-two years old, her golden brown hair kept in dreadlocks that framed a pale, oval face. Her clothing is dirty and torn, not in the artful way of someone who bought pre-torn jeans at the market, but in the threadbare way of someone with only a single pair of jeans worn year round. She has a light blue jacket cast around her shoulders, and a pair of worn sneakers on her feet. Her prized possession is an old violin, its varnish peeling and cracked, but which she still uses and keeps up constantly. She also has a tattered silk top-hat, which she sometimes wears, and sometimes collects money in. She's usually surrounded by animals, rats, pigeons, cats or feral dogs, all of whom act like playful puppies or kittens around her.

Note: Though Valerie doesn’t realize it, she has a certain level of psychic potential, which manifests in her incredibly easy rapport with all kinds of animals. Animals love her, and Valerie can usually tell what they’re thinking, or get them to do things for her. Valerie hasn’t realized that there’s anything odd about this, she just thinks that she’s good at reading animal body language, and training them a little.


Tessa Dewhurst

[spoiler=Moved on to Greener Pastures]Type: Mortal
Profession: Cultist of the Great God Pan

Virtue: Faith Tessa's found God. More worrisome, God's found Tessa.
Vice: Gluttony Tessa worshiped a fertility cult, and for her, wine, women (or men) and song are the perks of devotion.

Background: Iä! Iä! Pan Phorbas! Lord of the Forest! Horned Man! Lord of Terror!

There was no dark fate that drew Tessa Dewhurst into the arms of the Great God Pan. Her family was middle class -- her father was a debt management consultant, her mother was an orthodontist -- and Tessa grew up, enjoyed a comfortably boring if rather spoiled life as an only child, and went to the university where she studied literature and had some vague interest in environmentalism. Her mistake, or perhaps her destiny, was to pick up a flyer from a desk at the campus center, and go to the ramshackle house where the "Pan University Society for Woodland Preservation" was housed. They drew her to the basement, chloroformed her, tied her to a chair and summoned the Great God Pan. So was Tessa lost.

It was entirely possible that the PUSWP had done their work too well, for what emerged from the arms of the Great God was a woman with a convert's zeal, not nearly enough inhibition, and an unexpected skill at cult politics. Given that the losers of PUSWP internal politics were usually left as sacrifices for the Great God, (he didn't kill them, no, the Society did that later, after they'd retreated into comas, minds blasted to atoms by the fear), most of those who recruited Tessa found themselves in the embrace of the God.

When MI-18 raided the PUSWP three years later, following up rumors of the ghastly fertility cult, Tessa and the surviving cultists found themselves offered a stark choice. Imprisonment and renunciation, or a chance to put their abilities to work for Her Majesty's Government. Tessa took the second choice, and now, bound tight with geases and the blood-signed contract of the Official Secrets Act, Section Three, she kills and seduces and sacrifices for MI-18.

Then Lauren came.
SMental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 4
TPhysical Attributes: Strength 4(7), Dexterity 3, Stamina 4(6)
PSocial Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 4, Composure 3

TMental Skills: Academics (Greco-Roman Myth) 3, Computer 1, Medicine 1, Occult (New Age) 3, Politics (Backstabbing) 4
PPhysical Skills: Athletics 4, Brawl (Kick) 4, Firearms 1, Survival 3
SSocial Skills: Empathy 3, Expression 2, Intimidation 4, Persuasion (Seduction) 5, Socialize (Bacchanalia) 3, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 3

Merits: Barfly 1, Holistic Awareness 3,
+3 dice to resist any attempt to bend the Hunter to one’s will, be it magical (spells) or mundane (Intimidation, Persuasion)
Indomitable, Languages (Greek) 1, Meditative Mind 1,
Religious Leader; Persuasion, Occult, Academics
Professional Training (Cultic Contacts) 5, Resources 1, Sexualized 2, Status (
Castigations; Sexualized Merit
PUSWP; Favored Acolyte) 4, Striking Looks 2

Endowments: Castigations 5;
Change into a demon form for (Castigation+Stamina) rounds, gaining +5 to attributes, 2/2 armor, lethal damage to all attacks, Lunacy, +1 Size, and the ability to heal wounds on a 1-1 basis by spending WP.
○○ +1L, Resolve+Intimidation
Mark of the Beast,
Gain +5 to Brawl for the rest of the scene
○, Strength+Stamina
Physical Endowment,
Gain +5 to Health for the rest of the scene
○, Strength+Stamina
Gain +5 to Persuasion for the rest of the scene
○, Strength+Stamina
Dread Gaze,
Gain supernatural insights on a topic or question
--, Wits+Composure
Infernal Visions

Willpower: 7
Morality: 4
Code Changes: 3 - Planned Crime (murder) is replaced by Failing to show proper respect to Pan
Tells: Calling Card (Minor)

Health: 9(12) +5 w/ Hellflesh
Initiative: 6
Defense: 3
Armor: 2/2 (Mark of the Beast)
Speed: 12(15)

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Kick ..........……………………0B………………….9/14………………
Razor-Sharp Hoof…………0L………………….12/17………………

Malcolm Sutherland

[spoiler=Not Really Relevant]Type: Mortal
Profession: Multi-Millionaire Press Baron

Virtue: Prudence
Vice: Greed

Background: For the first part of the story, refer to Underwood's Background at his character thread.

They don’t call him “Buddy” no more. Fleeing family trouble, Malcolm ran away from home in 1946, hopping a steamer to New York at the age of 16. There, he booked a room at the Y and signed on at the Courier. Three things are certain about his involvement with the Drummond-Prentiss story: he poached Jack’s lead and set him up to fall; he saw something at that pharmaceutical plant while doing so; and, whatever it was, he didn’t report on the full story.

Malcolm kept getting promoted, burying another rival with each step up the ladder. By 35, he ran the Courier’s city desk. By 45, he had purposely run the Courier’s circulation into the ground. By 47, he had hopped the pond for a cushy Editor In Chief job at the Knightsbridge Gazette, and bought out the Courier for pennies on the dollar. Thirty years later, after absorbing countless other publications, the International Courier-Gazette has an extensive readership in over 140 countries, and Mr. Sutherland has become a very rich man indeed.

Malcolm, simply put, is a bastard of the highest caliber. While not a tabloid, and not particularly right-wing, the Courier-Gazette is now a muckracking outfit at its core. Malcolm stabbed countless personal and professional competitors in the back to get where he is today, and uses the newspaper as a means to continue doing so, employing his reporters to slander those he dislikes or finds inconvenient. In person, he’s a jowly, shortish old man with a bit of a paunch – a saccharine glad-hander to those he wants to impress, and a smug, ruthless tosser to everyone else. He owns a posh brownstone in the Belgravia neighborhood of London and a handsome estate on the outskirts of his native Glasgow, and spends his time jetting between both. He’s also made some non-newspaper investments in recent years: among other things, he’s just purchased a controlling interest in an obscure Russian pharmaceutical company.[/spoiler.]

Dale Thomashefsky
(born Dawid Thomashefsky)

[spoiler=Not needed since Underwood's Retirement]Type: Mortal
Profession: Retiree

Background: Underwood’s youngest brother, and, at 79, currently the only living relative that he cares about. Dale served in the Korean War, and spent much of the rest of the century as a defense contractor with Lockheed. Now, he’s a late-stage Alzheimer’s sufferer, and barely lucid on his best days. His wife died five years ago, and his two deadbeat sons dumped him in a nursing home and forgot about him; when Underwood found out, he privately paid for his transfer to a much nicer facility on Long Island, and has been funding Dale’s stay ever since. Underwood has visited him a couple of times, always under his new name, and always claiming to be just another good Samaritan. He’s still not sure whether or not Dale recognizes him for who he really is.[/spoiler.]

Stephanie Halston

[spoiler=Not needed since Underwood's Retirement]Type: Mortal
Profession: Middle Management

Background: Herringbone’s younger sister, now in her late thirties; moderate build, sandy brown hair, glasses. Also the only member of Herringbone’s family that keeps in touch with him, after his parents disowned him. She doesn’t speak with Mom and Dad anymore, either. Knows absolutely nothing about the changeling world; all the same, she’s local, and offered to be Underwood’s contact in the city when Herringbone mentioned that his friend would be in town. Has a mid-level business-side job in biotech, and lives in Knightsbridge with her two kids, Eric (9) and Lucy (6); she’s divorced, but with full custody. She’s a strong personality – often sniping playfully back and forth with her brother, when he’s around – but quite friendly, and appallingly normal given Underwood’s current standard.[/spoiler.]

Deborah Church

[spoiler=Happily Married and Retired from Adventuring]Species: Mortal
Virtue: Justice: Church believes that the good guys will win and the bad guys will lose in the end.
Vice: Lust. She loves the rush of flying, and of getting into (and out of) fights. Adrenaline is her favorite high.

A born tomboy and adrenaline junkie, Church has wanted to fly since she was old enough to wear dungarees and climb trees. Joining the RAF gave her the chance, and she loved it. It was dangerous, of course, flying an ambulance helicopter out during the Sierra Leone civil war, but everything worth doing has its risks. She liked the camaraderie of the military, even if some of the boys were jerks about having a woman around, but the chance to fly a Chinook made up for that in spades.

After getting let go from the RAF following budget cuts, Debs has made a living as an independent helicopter pilot. Both the tiny airfield and the beat-up old Eurocopter are up to the eyebrows, but Church is doing what she loves. Church Transport and Sightseeing is based just north of Liverpool, and occasionally a bit of Liverpool accent breaks through Church's endless supply of RAF slang.

Church is a cheery woman with a round face, a blond ponytail and a wide, easy smile. She looks completely at home in a jumpsuit and flight helmet. She looks pretty good in a dress with her hair down, too, though it's been a while since anyone's seen her that way.

Age: Late twenties
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Dark blond
Skin Tone/Complexion: Fair skinned with a light tan.
Hair Style: Shoulder length hair with a pony tail in the back, layered bangs parted to the left in the front.

Figure Notes: A highly athletic, average sized woman with small chest and an hourglass figure - she's wider than can be considered slender, mostly due to the extra muscle. The lines of her body are soft, however, rather than sharp or hard. She has a round face, with friendly features and a wide, easy smile. With her hair up she looks the very model of a professional pilot; with her hair down, she looks more feminine and pretty good to boot.

Clothing Notes: When flying, a civilian flight-suit with an undershirt and pants beneath it. Off-duty, she has a preference for sturdy and casual clothing - t-shirts, khaki pants, and boots. She can sometimes wear a scarf in RAF fashion, and also aviation jackets, complete with her old squadron patches.

Accessories: A flight helmet complete with goggles, a black and gold pen kept tucked behind her ear, and two gold pins on her collar; one shaped like an airplane, the other like a hornet. When flying she wears a headset.

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3
Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

Mental Skills: Academics 2 (WWII), Computers 2, Crafts 3 (Machinery), Medicine 3, Science 3
Physical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 1, Drive 4 (Fixed-Wing Aircraft, Rotary-Wing Aircraft), Firearms 3, Stealth 2, Survival 2, Weaponry 3
Social Skills: Empathy 1, Intimidation 1, Persuasion 2, Streetwise 1

Merits: Allies (RAF) 3, Athletics Dodge 1, Contacts (Pilots, WWII Collectors) 2, Decorated 2, Fast Reflexes 2, Fighting Style (Improvised Weaponry) 3, Resources 4, Technophile (Aviation) 2

Willpower: 5
Morality: 7
Virtue: Justice
Vice: Lust

Health: 8
Initiative: 8
Defense: 3
Armor: 2/0 (Flight Jacket)
Speed: 12

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Improvised Weapon............ 1(L)................ 7
Colt M1911A1...................3L...................10..............30/60/120 range, 7 ammo

Keith Walker

[spoiler=Around London, Not in Use]Type: Wolf-Blooded.
Virtue: Justice. Keith is not a brave man, but he has exacted justice on some through his writing. Not that many people will have read it… yet.
Vice: Pride. Keith is a very proud man, and resents those who criticise him (even if it is fair).

Background: [SPOILER=" "]Keith was born in a poorer area of London, and his family financial situation was in constant flux. Both of his parents were unskilled labour, often hopping from job to job and not knowing if there would be enough money to make ends meet when the month drew to a close. They moved several times, as their circumstances dictated, but they were never in very nice areas.

The school Keith went to was not a highly rated one, and despite being a bright child his potential was not recognised by the staff. Even as a young boy, however, he had a vivid imagination and wrote with flair and wit. He enjoyed making up stories. And he decided from an early age that would be a way to make something of himself.

As he grew older, however, he realised how hard it was to become a published author. His stories, although very well written, would take time to obtain attention. So he needed a career in the meantime – and since he was such a good writer, he took up journalism. He started a school paper, arranged work experience at a local one, and worked hard to make the cut for a college journalism course.

With his experience, he made it onto a course, working part time to fund himself as he studied. It lasted two years in which he worked the college paper and radio station. With this experience in addition to his earlier work and high grades, he acquired early entry onto a university course. Three years later, he graduated with honours and managed to pick up a job working for a small London-based paper, while writing freelance and trying to have his fiction published.

Recently he has been following a trail of suspicious events around London… [/SPOILER.]

Personality: Determination would be a key word for Keith. He has worked for everything he has, and he isn’t letting go of any of it. He is fair in his way, but ruthless and relentless when it comes to pursuing a story. He will pester and cajole and even bribe people until he gets information, though he draws the line at outright trickery or deceit.

Age: Twenty-six.
Eye Color: Brown.
Hair Color: Black.
Skin Tone/Complexion: Fair.
Hair Style: Short and neat.

Figure Notes: --

Clothing Notes:


Other: --.


Mental - Intelligence ••, Wits ••••, Resolve •••
Physical - Strength ••, Dexterity ••, Stamina ••
Social - Presence •••, Manipulation ••••, Composure •


Mental – Computer ••• (Hacking), Crafts •, Investigation •••• (Crime Scenes), Occult •, Politics •, Science •
Physical – Athletics • (Run Away), Drive • (Tail), Larceny •••, Stealth •••
Social – Animal Ken • (Wolves), Empathy •• (Emotions), Expression •••• (Writing), Persuasion •••• (Trustworthy), Socialize •, Streetwise •• (Rumours), Subterfuge • (Lying)

Morality - 7

Merits -
Includes Unseen Sense ••• for werewolves/spirits, willpower is treated two higher for purposes of Lunacy, and free Wolf specialty if character has any dots in Animal Ken
Wolf-Blooded ••••, Fleet of Foot •••, Contacts (Press, Police, Hospitals, Media) ••••, Good Time Management ••, Make Do •••, Encyclopaedic Knowledge ••••, Wheelman ••


Defence - 2
Health - 7
Initiative - 3
Speed - 12
Willpower - 4


Ingrid Yoriksson

[spoiler=Around London, Not in Use]Type: Wolf-Blooded.
Virtue: Hope. Things tend to work themselves out. Bad luck runs out. People make up. All you really have to do is weather the storm and hope it ends soon.
Vice: Envy. Being so otherwordly has its drawbacks. People don't get close to you. You miss out on normal experiences. It can be very lonely.

Background: [SPOILER="Background"]Ingrid always knew she was different. What she didn’t know was: how? This question has defined most of her life.

As a child Ingrid would have visions of events before they occurred, or see things that had happened previously, or sense the history of an object, or even displace her own senses. She was also astute enough to know, even at a very young age, that not everyone could do this. So Ingrid kept her abilities quiet, but she was always curious about them and devoted a great deal of time and effort to learning more about them. In the mean time, she was an oddity. It was as if the other children could sense that she was not the same as them, and they made her an outcast for it. Ingrid didn’t mind so much - she had companionship at home, and that was all that mattered to her.

Ingrid, her sister and her mother shared a love of animals. Viveka worked at Stockholm Zoo, and so the two girls would often go there after school and spend hours helping their mother. They all seemed to have a particular affinity for predatory animals. As for her father, Ingrid never knew him. He had left when he sister was a year old, not even aware that he had a second daughter. The Zoo manage knew this, and was aware that Viveka struggled with money, so he “hired” the two girls, paying them whenever they helped out. He eventually became their step-father.

When Ingrid finished high school, she decided that she wanted to travel. Viveka had always known that her daughter was different - even more so than herself or her eldest daughter. She didn’t know why, but she did understand the urge to go out into the world and find yourself. So she and her new husband furnished Ingrid with money, and sent her along her merry way.

The experience was a wonderful one for Ingrid. She travelled across much of Europe, learning languages and meeting people. To any observers, her journey would have appeared to be simple meandering - but it was all carefully planned. Ingrid had researched a great deal about psychics and many claimed to know much about them. So she visited places, searching for answers but finding mostly trickery or chicanery. London was her last stop - she saved it for then because it had a reputation for the supernatural.

In most places, she stayed only temporarily for a few weeks at most. But Ingrid fell in love with London - the places, the people. The answers she found there. She dug deep enough to find out that the supernatural was real, though she remains mostly ignorant of it. She decided to stay, and realised that she would need something to do. Ingrid knew she had two assets to draw on for survival - her facility with languages and her mental abilities. She chose both.

By day, Ingrid had set herself up as a translator. With the number of languages that she could speak, she did well enough. By night, however, she was a fortune teller. She would look into people’s futures and reveal what could come to pass. In this, she was moderately successful. Her predictions were often right, and so he gained a loyal base of clients. As of yet, she has not been noticed by any of the werewolf Packs of London, and Ingrid remains unaware that she has wolf-blood. [/SPOILER.]

Personality: Ingrid is a very pleasant woman. She is the quintessentially nice person that everyone knows. Always polite, kind, sweet. Never seems to be sad, always full of cheer and optimism. She has a certain mystical quality about her - whether this is natural, or an affected air because of her work, is hard to say. Despite this, she has a reassuring presence.

Age: 28.
Eye Color: Green.
Hair Color: Blonde.
Skin Tone/Complexion: Extremely pale.
Hair Style: Often done up elaborately, with many clips and hairpins for decoration.

Figure Notes: --

Clothing Notes: When working as a fortune teller, she dresses the part. Shawls and beads, huge classes, head scarves, long flowing skirts. The works. As a translator, she wears simple business attire. On her own, she tends to wear fairly plain clothing - jeans and a simple shirt.

Accessories: --

Other: --.


Mental - Intelligence •••, Wits ••••, Resolve •••
Physical - Strength •, Dexterity ••, Stamina •••
Social - Presence ••••, Manipulation •, Composure ••••


Mental - Academics • (Languages), Crafts •, Investigation ••• (Dreams), Medicine ••, Occult ••••• (Psychics, Shapeshifters), Science ••
Physical - Drive •, Larceny •, Stealth ••, Survival ••
Social - Animal Ken • (Wolf), Empathy •••, Expression •, Persuasion •, Socialize •, Streetwise ••, Subterfuge ••

Morality - 7

Merits -
Includes Unseen Sense ••• for werewolves/spirits, willpower is treated two higher for purposes of Lunacy, and free Wolf specialty if character has any dots in Animal Ken
Wolf-Blooded ••••, Language ••• (French, German, English; native is Swedish), Clairvoyance •••, Precognition ••••, Postcognition •••, Psychometry ••••, Multi-Lingual •• (Russian, Spanish, Italian, Polish), Resources ••


Defence - 2
Health - 8
Initiative - 6
Speed - 8
Willpower - 7


Yul Tseng

[spoiler=Around London, Not in Use]Type: Wolf-Blooded.
Virtue: Faith. Yul is a priest. I’m sure you can figure this one out.
Vice: Lust. It all started for Yul on his first sermon. He was nervous. Someone told him to picture everyone in their underwear, and he did… very effectively.

Background: [SPOILER=" "]Yul was born in a rural area of Chad, in Africa. His parents were Natalie and Shun Tseng, a British woman and a Chinese man who met while working as missionaries. They married there and a year later, conceived a child together. Unfortunately, Shun died before the birth of his son - when Natalie was four months pregnant he had been working on constructing a building with others. It collapsed during construction, and Shun was struck on the head by falling debris. He was brain damaged in the accident and, although he was taken to the nearest hospital, he never regained consciousness.

Natalie was, understandably, upset. She considered returning home, but she loved her work and the people too much to do so. She named her son Yul, and he was raised as a missionary kid. He learned to speak and read Arabic, a common language in the area. Yul gained skills in surviving in the wilderness, raising animals and was trained in emergency care. Until Yul was fourteen, he and his mother lived in Chad. However, Natalie’s mother had breast cancer in the final stages and Natalie decided to go home and take care of her. They had only returned to the UK a few times, so it was a new experience for Yul, living there full time.

After her mother passed away, Natalie decided to remain in the UK with her father. She wanted to continue home-schooling Yul, but he wanted to go and meet other children his age and see what they were like. Bright and charismatic, he made many friends for himself. He did miss Africa, but he adapted to living in Britain, which seemed like a foreign land to him - as novel and different as Chad had been to his mother.

When it came to time to decide his future, Yul elected to enter the priesthood. Neither of his parents had, merely being volunteers - in fact, his father had been a Buddhist as opposed to a Christian. But Yul’s faith was the same as his mothers, in God and Jesus Christ.

When his training was complete, Yul was assigned to a district in London that was known for the numbers of homeless people who lived there. This is how he came to meet Cinder - a woman who knew many of the homeless of London. She took a keen interest in Yul, for he did much charity work in support of the homeless as well as other groups. They struck up a good working relationship, though of course Yul doesn’t know one of the reasons for Cinder’s interest in him - his blood. [/SPOILER.]

Personality: As a man of the faith, Yul has a presence that is somehow sombre and uplifting at once. He is a man who invites confidences, charming and witty and full of interesting tales. When Yul is giving a speech or sermon, he is very captivating - it is hard not to pay attention to him. He exudes a raw sort of magnetism that draws people in. He can be somewhat judgemental, however, not to mention hypocritical - he advises against sex before marriage, but can’t stop indulging in it himself, for example.

Age: Twenty-seven.
Eye Color: Green.
Hair Color: Black.
Skin Tone/Complexion: Fair.
Hair Style: Short.

Figure Notes: --

Clothing Notes: I’ll give you one guess.

Accessories: Dog collar? Crucifix?

Other: --.


Mental - Intelligence •••, Wits •••, Resolve ••••
Physical - Strength •, Dexterity ••, Stamina ••••
Social - Presence ••••, Manipulation •, Composure ••••


Mental - Crafts ••, Investigation ••, Medicine •• (First Aid), Occult ••• (Christian Myth), Politics ••
Physical - Athletics ••, Drive •, Stealth ••, Survival •••• (Foraging, Navigation), Weaponry •
Social - Animal Ken • (Wolves), Empathy ••••, Expression ••••• (Preaching), Intimidation •• (Soul’s Fate), Persuasion ••

Morality - 7

Merits -
Includes Unseen Sense ••• for werewolves/spirits, willpower is treated two higher for purposes of Lunacy, and free Wolf specialty if character has any dots in Animal Ken
Wolf-Blooded ••••, Allies ••• (Cinder), Quick Healer ••••, Contacts • (Clergy), Inspiring ••••, Status •• (Priest), Higher Calling ••, Language (Arabic; native is English) •, Meditative Mind •


Defence - 2
Health - 9
Initiative - 6
Speed - 8
Willpower - 8


Vincent Moon
Resident of the Golden Room, Author of Shivery Tales of Horror, the Scribbler of Soho

[spoiler=Incommunicado for the forseable centuries, courtesy of Cain]Type: Vampire
Covenant: Invictus (formerly Lancea Sanctum)
Clan: Mekhet
Vincent Moon’s own bloodline, as of yet unique to him. Bloodline Discipline – Detournement. Bloodline weakness – Lose 2WP if you don't indulge your curiosity
The Moonies

[spoiler=Vincent Moon][/spoiler.]

Virtue: Hope. Moon is a nihilistic optimist. Moon's wandered for a very long time, and he's done a great many things, and his conclusion -- his epiphany -- is two-fold. First, absolutely nothing matters. There's no meaning in reality, nothing but random gibberish to which our pattern-oriented brains ascribe reasons. Secondly, this is absolutely awesome. It is the ultimate freedom, the ultimate liberation. Why not fly a kite, or read Confucius, or explore another dimension? What can stop you?
Vice: Lust. Moon is entirely too cheerful and enthusiastic for someone who basically subscribes to the pointlessness of all reality. But he is! He's cheerful, pleasant, and has all the attention-span of a hyperactive chipmunk. He reads a book, or gets an idea, or has a conversation, and then immediately rushes off to do things which no one understands. Keeping Moon focused on a task at hand is a full time job.

Background: History shall be kind to me, for I intend to write it. Winston Churchill said this, and made good on his word. The vampire known as Vincent Moon follows the same philosophy in life. Over the centuries, much has been said about the Scribbler of Soho. The only problem is that most of it was said by Vincent Moon himself.

Vincent Moon is an old vampire. The problem is that so many records were lost in the Great Fire of 1666. As it stands, the earliest known record of Moon dates from 1763, when a Herald of the London Consilium wrote a detailed description of the personages of Sir Tobias Walsingham's (the then-Prince of London) Court, which included a 'Vincent Moone, chronicler'. Who was he before this? No one is quite certain, though the most popular theory is that Moon was a monk during the Black Death, and lost his mind and his faith during a long Torpor in the 16th century. Much more certain is Moon's place of origin. He's a Londoner born and bred, and Moon will always come back to London, no matter how often he's been kicked out (and Moon's been evicted on more than one occasion). But every time, after an exile of thirty or forty years, he quietly insinuates his way back into Kindred society, as though he never left. He has a Haven, somewhere in Westminster, though no one's ever found it.

Moon is an artist. He's an author, and this earns him respect among the Kindred, who have so few creative types of their own. His chosen medium is theater, followed closely by the art of the short story, but Moon's written books and bits of doggerel over the years as well. In modern nights, he's fascinated with television and the movie, the methods of mass communication.

Moon is also a mystic. It's rather hard to say just what Vincent Moon believes, because it's easier to ask what he does not believe. Moon has followed every new-age belief and fad for two hundred years running. He's been a Spiritualist and a Theosophist, attempted to create vampiric Tantrism, and is known to be an enthusiast of yoga. In general, he's a nuisance. Moon runs after every latest mortal fad, yet he somehow manages to organize his beliefs in his own head, and keep them coherent. Or at least, as coherent as Moon ever gets.

It's the intersection of Moon-as-Artist and Moon-as-Mystic which is where Vincent Moon tends to end up in trouble. For Vincent Moon feels compelled to spread his beliefs, not just to other vampires, who react to him with a kind of exasperated amusement, but to mortals as well. Moon has lived his entire requiem on the verge of being the subject of a blood hunt for breaching the Masquerade. Moon has written poems that lead to mystical sites, penned and published thinly-veiled roman a clefs of Kindred politics, and inserted arcane symbols into theatrical productions. The only fact that prevents Moon from having been burned before is the fact that while for a vampire, Moon is a very creative soul, he'll never be more than a second rate author, and his efforts rarely prove to be popular with the masses at large. Most do become collector's works, however.

On occasion, Moon goes too far, and for this he's had to go to ground on more than one occasion. The first time was during the French Revolution, when a too-enthusiastic tract in favor of events there forced Moon to scurry to the Continent. He poked around the radical circles of Paris and Geneva for a quarter of a century, only coming back to London in the 1830s. His stay in England proved to be brief, however, as his own artistic sensitivities got the better of him. In 1886 Moon wrote a play that, when performed, would create a wound in the very spiritual fabric of a location. When his first performance in Green Park was cancelled on account of werewolves, Moon decided that discretion was the better part of valor and hied off to the Americas. He stayed in Mexico for a time, slowly making his way across the Old West, and ended up in the burgeoning town of Hollywood by the 1920s.

Moon stayed in Hollywood for the 1920s and 1930s, writing scripts and hiding in the shadows behind the glitz and glamour. He only left shortly after the Second World War ended, returning to his beloved London to rebuild. He's stayed there since, a court poet and court jester, weaving his mad theories and inflicting them on anyone who doesn't get away fast enough.
Covenant: Unaligned (formerly Lancea Sanctum)
Clan: Mekhet
Vincent Moon’s own bloodline, as of yet unique to him. Bloodline Discipline – Détournement. Bloodline weakness – Lose 2WP if you don't indulge your curiosity
The Moonies

TMental Attributes: Intelligence 7, Wits 5, Resolve 5
SPhysical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 4
PSocial Attributes: Presence 1, Manipulation 2, Composure 5

PMental Skills: Academic (Conspiracy Lore) 5, Computer (Artificial Intelligence) 4, Crafts 3, Investigation (Surveillance, The Scientific Method) 5, Medicine (Thaumatechnology) 4, Occult (Christian Esotericism, Pre-Columbian Religion) 6, Politics 1, Science (Enochian Formulae, Nanotechnology, Quantum Physics) 6
TPhysical Skills: Firearms 1, Drive 1, Larceny 2, Stealth 4, Survival 1
SSocial Skills: Expression (Writing) 4, Intimidation 1, Persuasion 2, Socialize 1, Subterfuge 3

Merits: Allies (Conspiracy Theorists) 4, Common Sense (Extradimensional Situations) 3, Contacts (Pulp Literary Circles, New Age Groups, Ham Radio Buffs) 3, Eidetic Memory 2, Friend (The Maestro) 4, Languages (Arabic, Aramaic, Ecclesiastical Latin, French, Greek, German, Italian, Nahual, Spanish, Turkish; Native is English) 10, Meditative Mind 1, Occultation 3, Resources 6, Shadow Cult Initiation (The Golden Room) 5, Vice over Virtue 2
Chantry: Size 6, Doors 4, Occultation 5, Secrecy 5, Security 5, Library (Conspiracy Theories, Eschatology, Interstitial Terrain, Meme Theory, Quantum Physics, Transhumanism) 6, Ritual Area (Enochian Formulae) 3, Ritual Area (Détournement) 3, Workshop (Computers, Nanotechnology, Physics, Surgery) 4

Willpower: 10
Humanity: 1
Derangements: Magical Ideation (Mild), Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (Graphomania, Severe), Manic-Depression (Severe)
Banes: Fascinated by Dust (Mild), Oathbound (Severe), Shadow's Shame (Severe),

Initiative: 8 (15 w/ Eyes of the Beast & Celerity)
Defense: 3
Magic Shield 7 (Shield of Righteousness)
Mind Shield: 6 (Mind Blank)
Health: 9+
Quantum Entanglement
Speed: 11

Blood Potency: ●●●●●●●
Disciplines: Auspex ●●●●, Celerity ●●●, Détournement ●●●●●
The Empty Mind (Détournement 6)

Cost: 1 Vitae
Dice Pool: Intelligence+Science+ Détournement, minus Target’s Resolve
Action: Extended, ten successes, two hours per roll.

With this power, Vincent Moon surgically extracts and dissects a brain (human… usually) and interposes it with slices of Vitae, literally consuming all knowledge contained therein. This procedure is best carried out on a living target, though it can be done upon the brain of a dead man. Brains lose one quarter of their usable information for every hour they are not preserved. (cryogenics can preserve a brain at full knowledge, freezing at 3/4ths, while formaldehyde at 1/4th).
Anonymous (Détournement 7)

Cost: 1 Vitae
Dice Pool: Wits+Computer+ Détournement, opposed by Wits+Computer of any Sys Op.
Action: Instant

With this ability, Moon is able to inject an artificially intelligent virus into an area. This virus is semi-magical, and may jump across computer systems, electrical systems, phones, anything that uses electricity, and may control it – phones ring or do not ring, digital cameras seamlessly edit their video feeds, power cuts in and out at the virus’s discretion. The virus uses Moon’s mental attributes and skills, and is sufficiently sentient to use its judgment if it is out of contact with Moon (a rare thing in this world wireless technology).
, Dominate ●●●,
As Theban Sorcery, but Intelligence+Science+EF, and technological equivalent offerings (complex radio mechanism in place of a Biblical horn, a tuning fork instead of a cross, etc). Visual effects may also differ.
Enochian Formulae ●●●●●●●, Majesty ●, Obfuscate ●●●●●
Mind Blank (Obfuscate 6)

Anyone attempting to affect Moon’s mind must first find it, no easy task with the cloud of Obfuscate. In effect, Moon’s mind is guarded by a Mind Shield effect at Potency 6.
Able to merge with all materials, take the form of a bat, wolf, and swarm
Protean ●●●●●
Enochian Formulae Rituals: 1st :
Blessed Medalion, once per story, receive a +3 to a single roll
Hauberk of Blood, invest up to (size) Vitae in armor to a person. Vitae absorbs damage at the rate of 2B, 1L, or 1/5A per point.
Protective Resonance,
Speak with Jinn, see spirits in the Twilight and communicate with Spirits
The Twilight Frequency,
Vitae Reliquary, store Vitae in an object indefinitely
Dee’s Vitae Containment; 2nd:
Damned Radiance, the caster gains EF as a bonus to all Presence rolls for the scene, and suffers a -3 to all social rolls involving subtlety or finesse, or to stealth rolls; the caster becomes truly inhuman seeming.
Memetic Subroutine,
Consecrate Offering, costs 1 Vitae in addition to WP, imbues an offering with willpower. If the ritual is successful, a caster using the consecrated offering does not need to spend his own willpower, though he cannot augment the first roll of the spell with WP. If the offering is something that cannot be prepared – such as vitae – the ritual cannot be used, and the offering remains consecrated until it is touched by sunlight or fire.
Prepare Instruments,
Curse of Babel, penalized by Resolve, target is unable to communicate for (successes) hours or until the next sunrise, by any means (verbal, written, telepathic, etc)
Liar’s Plague, penalized by higher of Resolve or Composure, beetles fall from the target’s mouth if he speaks a knowing lie. Scene-duration.
Sanctity, grant a +5 to Academics, Empathy, Intimidation, Occult, or Persuasion rolls in an area for (successes+2) hours.
Legionnaire’s Blessing, weapon deals +5 damage for (successes) blows, then permanently loses 1 damage.
Reverberating Blade; 3rd:
Anoint Offering, may be applied to any offering that is acceptable for Consecrat Offering, a ritual cast using an anointed offering receives a +2 to activation rolls, after which it (like all offerings) is consumed.
Calibrate Instruments,
Impart, penalized by ritual dots, imprints a ritual’s use on a storage medium, which along with the proper offering allows anyone to use the Enochian Formulae ritual once, substituting their own Intelligence+Science+EF(if any). The new caster loses their defense while casting.
Transfer Instruments,
Cast out the Unclean Spirit, penalized by Resistance/Resolve, transfers a possessing entity (of any sort) out of a target and into an animal (rats, popularly, where it stays until the duration of the possession elapses or the animal dies.
Neurospiritual Transferral,
Dark Blessing, grants (successes) bonus dice that can be used for a general group of actions until sunrise.
Hughes’ Amplification,
Pharaoh’s Paces, no one that sees the target may look at, touch, or approach within 9 paces of the caster. Someone affected by the spell may roll Presence+Resolve, spending 1WP per roll, until he equals the caster’s successes
Vision of Will, imbue an object with (Willpower spent) visions, which may be anything at all, including social rolls. Anyone who touches the object is subjected to the vision, until it ends or he gathers (successes) in an Extended Resolve+Composure action.
Black Sun Key,
False Prophet, penalized by composure; the next time the target is involved in a prophecy (either as the subject or as the prophet), the prophecy is twisted in a subtle but significant way. A sought sanctuary may actually be somebody else’s sanctuary, an artefact may be differently guarded than foreseen, a foreseen betrayal may actually be somebody else’s betrayal or even an offer of friendship, or the timing may be off, invariably meaning the recipient of the vision arrives on the scene at the wrong time. Any bonuses normally granted by a vision of the future do not apply to atainted vision, but instead become a penalty as the recipient of the vision enters the scene with false assumptions. Moreover, once the false prophecy has been delivered, any other visionary attempting to divine the same matter receives the same false prophecy, until it comes to pass.
Schrodinger’s Dilemma,
Wither, penalized by Stamina(+Resilience), target loses (successes) Strength and/or Dexterity, caster’s choice. If any stats are brought to 0, the target is helpless.
Entropic Cascade,
Ward Off the Avenging Angel, penalized by location size, creates an anti-Twilight ward. Anyone attempting to pass must succeed at an instant Power or Resolve+SU roll and equal the (successes). An entity may only attempt a number of rolls equal to its Resistance/Composure per night. The ward lasts for one month.
Hypergeometric Labyrinth,
Shield of Righteousness, subtracts 5 from up to (successes) supernatural attacks (any spell other than Enochian Formulae). Lasts until sunrise.
Dee’s Antinoise,
Gift of Tongues, allows the target(s) to speak and read any language for one scene, penalized by each additional target after the first.
Icarian Vessel, store up to (successes) willpower points in a small, crystalline object, which can be withdrawn with an instant action and a free hand.
Crystal Skull; 4th:
Sacrifical Lamb, must be cast on another vampire who must be a willing participant (or at least not compelled magically). The next (successes) boxes of damage which the caster suffers are instantly transferred to the other vampire, regardless of where he is.
Quantum Entangling,
Spear of Faith, inflicts (successes) lethal damage to up to five targets, each target after the first receiving 1 fewer damage (so the targets would suffer, say, 7/6/5/4/3L damage). Ignores defense or armor, penalized by the highest Stamina of the victims
Electric Contagion,
Reliquary of Solomon, penalized by Resistance, permanently traps a spirit or similar entity in a container. Each container must be custom crafted for the specific spirit.
Angel’s Flight, allows Moon to fly for (successes) hours or until dawn, whichever is first, at (successes) speed (doubled on an ES).
Hover; 5th:
Ward of Gomorrah, if a target sees the ward, they must roll Resolve+Supernatural Resistance vs. (Successes) or be turned into a pillar of salt. The roll is repeated every turn that a victim sees the ward. The ward may trap (Presence) victims before becoming quiescent, and victims may be rescued by simple expedient of turning them away from the ward.
Observer-Effect Trap,
Night of Hell, penalized by Resolve, inflicts a traumatic nightmare upon a victim. The target loses all willpower points, gains a severe derangement, and is unable to wake up on his own
Attention of the Third Fury,
Rain of Blood, impose as much of a -5 distraction penalty on a 40-ft radius area, inflict 1L per turn for (successes) turns (ignore armor or defense), and mortals must make a Composure roll or suffer a further -4 nausea penalty on non-reflexive actions, so long as they can see/feel the rain. The sorcerer may exclude certain targets from the damage at will.
Red Note,
Jericho’s Fate, inflict (successes) damage per turn onto a building for (willpower spent) turns. This damage ignores durability.
Earthquake Machine,
Trial of Job, penalized by Composure, victim takes a (successes) penalty for all actions for (Sorcerer’s Resolve) days. This can be cast either at line-of-sight, or with an intimate sympathetic connection.
Attention of the Fifth Fury; 6th:
Open the Iris, if cast at an existing transdimensional gate (Hedge Gate, Avernian Gate, Locus or Verge, etc) opens the gate for (successes) turns. Alternatively, may open a portal to Moon’s Golden Road from any location (Moon serves as the gate in this case).
Unified Field Theory,
An upgraded version of Break the Bread, this ritual is cast upon a feeding vessel (animal or human);an animal vessel is capable of nourishing a vampire of (successes) BP, and a human vessel provides nourishment for a vampire of up to (successes+3) BP
Vitae Ionization; 7th:
Vincent Moon is now able to use Enochian Formulae to achieve effects comparable to the Imperial Spells of the Archmasters now. Moon may use any power of the Common Practices of the Arcana, with Imperial spell factors, or use the Practices of Dynamics, Entities, or Excision, so long as they relate to Science. All Mana costs are converted to Willpower, and Moon can only cast these spells as Extended actions (half-hour per roll), with the relevant equipment present.

Imperial Science is not Imperial Magic, though for the purpose of game mechanics it uses similar systems. They use entirely different – and by and large mutually incomprehensible – principles. There are several other key differences; two disadvantages and two advantages compared to Imperial Magic.
1) Imperial Science cannot break the laws of reality. It can do a great deal within the context of those laws (consider that the realms of nanotechnology, quantum physics, and genetic engineering are all left open to it), but it cannot explicitly break them. In practice, most Imperial Science effects are draw from the Arcana of Matter, Forces, or Life, with lesser uses of Mind, Space, Spirit, and Death (primarily the trapping and control of entities). Imperial Science can usually do very little to affect the Arcana of Time, Prime, or Fate.
2) While the casting of Enochian Formulae is fairly swift and straightforward, offerings are still required, and assembling those offerings for the practice of Imperial Science is a task comparable to that of gathering Quintessence. Offerings for Imperial Science are unique to each use, but tend towards extremely complex hypertech mechanisms, which can require a great deal of effort to secure and construct. Even a spell that may normally be cast ad-hoc (using the common practices with Imperial Factors) requires elaborate preparation.
3) However, Imperial Science does not cause Paradox,
4) And the effects, once created, are frequently much more durable and portable than those of Imperial Magic. Building a firearm capable of shredding an opponent’s molecular structure is an act of Imperial Science. Firing it is not.
Imperial Science
Activates off Enochian Formulae, not Cruac
Arcane Sight, Eye of Shiva, Eyes of the Beast, Cleansing Impression, Mercurial Form, Instantaneous Transformation
Vitae: 20/5


Type: Ghost

[spoiler=In the Underworld, Likely to Stay There]Background: Asherbenal (a long-corrupted form of his birth-name 'Irssirbanilq') was born on present-day Wrangel Island sometime around 1800 BCE. He was one of the Elsim Qaninuq, a branch of the Siberian Yupik people that had lived on that island between 2000 and 1400 BCE. They were hunters, who made stone and ivory tools and preyed on seals, fish, and the dwarf mammoths that still lived on the island when Irssirbanilq was alive. They lived in animal-hide tents, yarangas, and had an animistic worship. Their village has long since been erased by time, though the distant cousin-village has been uncovered at Chertov Ovrag.

Irssirbanilq was an apprentice shaman, courtesy of a quirk of fate -- Irssirbanilq was an epileptic. He was taught minor magics, and bound a badger-spirit familiar (not a honey-badger, despite Asherbenal's corrupted memory). He was married, and had been the apprentice shaman for three years when he died in what amounted to a foolish accident. Following his familiar, Irssirbanilq suffered an epileptic seizure and fell far from the village. He broke his leg, and died of exposure over the course of the next several hours.

Between his spirit-magics and his traumatic death, Irssirbanilq remained as a ghost. His last anchors were destroyed over the course of the subsequent centuries, and he slipped into the Underworld. There, unlike most, Irssirbanilq stayed. He just never quite moved on. He grew powerful, lost his mind, and stayed out of trouble. He's still there today.


Lawrence Martin

[spoiler=Position Usurped by Erin and Rosehaven]
Concept: Sweets Shop Owner
Type: Human
Virtue: Hope: Martin is an old-fashioned Protestant straight down to the core, the sort of person rarely seen these days. To others, he epitomizes dignity, hard work, and the inherent decency of the common man.
Vice: Sloth: Martin doesn't know. Martin doesn't want to know. He just wants to go about his daily life without being bothered, and he doesn't have time for your malarkey right now.

Lawrence Martin isn't an old man, but he's certainly an old-fashioned one. He keeps his sandy brown hair parted down the center, carefully trimmed and styled with product. He will never be seen in anything less formal than long-sleeved dress shirts, even in the summer, though he sometimes rolls his sleeves up. His features are slightly bland, and his figure slightly flabby, but he's not really fat - owning a sweets shop has effectively killed any sweet tooth he might have had. He presents a friendly and welcoming exterior, ready and able to help his customers, but rarely getting too informal with them.

His shop, Home, Sweet Home, is a very large and well stocked store, with everything from jelly beans to cakes to sodas. He even keeps a frozen yogurt machine behind the counter for hot days. And it does fabulously well, more than one would expect from a simple candy shop with no signature product. In truth, Martin wonders a bit about that. The day after he took the business over from his father, he was approached by a green-eyed man dressed in even older fashion than he was, with a cat-like smile and a white waistcoat. The man promised wealth and prosperity, so long as Lawrence agreed to always let in anyone who was wearing a green leaf pin. Lawrence was boggled, and told the man he'd never turn away a customer in any case. The cat-grinned man took this as an agreement and left, and Lawrence was left to his own puzzlement.

And then the money started rolling in. Lawrence wanted to chalk it up to his hard work, but it was more money than his father had ever made, more money than his wildest expectations - and then there were those green leaf pins. Everyone wearing them was always... bizarre, from homeless drunkards who tried to pay in bottlecaps, to ladies in ballgowns. And apparently "always let in" meant "at any time they pleased"; he found himself forced to keep the shop open until midnight on many occasions, and once received an irate phone call at 3am demanding he come down and let a twenty person mob into the store. But ever since the man in the white vest came by, things have been better than ever, and the one time he was robbed the thief was found tied up in front of the door the next morning. And he hasn't quite got the nerve to tell any of the oddballs to leave...[/spoiler.]

The Beautiful Killer, Jacob Wright

[spoiler=DECAPITATED]Type: Vampire
Covenant: Belial's Brood (formerly Invictus)
Clan: Daeva
An avian bloodline from America. Bloodline Discipline – Protean. Bloodline Weakness – A -2 penalty to Anger Frenzies.
The Unholy
Embrace: 1859
Apparent Age: Late 20s

Virtue: Hope: Loki is chaos incarnate, and considers every quirk of faith to be an opportunity in disguise.
Vice: Pride: Loki likes to play god, doling out Judgment, deciding who lives, and who dies.

Background: Jacob Wright was a strange youth from the day he was born till the day he died. Then he continued to be a strange dead youth.

Wright was born to a greengrocer in London in the mid-1830s (he doesn't quite know when), the fifth of six children. He was a quiet, moody child, gathering scraps of education from the Methodists, and apprenticed to a butcher. In later years, they'd have considered Jacob to be exhibiting the classic signs of a serial killer from an early age. He was intelligent, yet had difficulty applying himself, and was tormented by other children due to his slight size and effeminate manner. He came from an unhappy household, not physically abusive but nevertheless traumatic in its intensity of sound and fury. He tortured the animals he killed for the butcher, letting their pain draw out as long as he could, becoming rather good at bleeding them to death. He tried to kill himself twice before the age of fourteen or so, and still has the scars on his arm to testify of one of the attempts. His two-colored eyes were seen as the marks of the Devil.

When he was a little older, Jacob ran away from his home, and took up a position as a cook's mate on board a clipper ship, plying the routes from London to the Far East. Jacob visited Malaysia and Australia, wintered one unpleasant storm in Patagonia, jumped ship in Singapore and signed on as a colonial soldier in India. And all along, his own psychoses grew worse, and worse, and worse. Still small, still effeminate, and still shunned due to his eerie eyes, Jacob did not make friends easily. He didn't mind a great deal though, since it meant no one noticed that most of the ports his ship visited ended up with a dead prostitute or two before they left. Cleverer than most sailors, Jacob was very good at covering his tracks.

It was in the 1850s, returning from a successful campaign suppressing the Sepoy Mutiny in India, that Jacob met a monster greater than he. The vampire in question was one of the Lancea et Sanctum, and he discovered Jacob after the madman and killer had slashed his way through three of his blood dolls. The Kindred, his name lost to time, decided that Jacob had the right skills and the right attitude for survival as one of the Damned. So he was Embraced -- though not before suffering several nights at the hands of the Nightmare-master who would be his Sire. When Jacob was embraced, he'd gained a whole new set of psychoses to add to his mortal ones.

Jacob entered into undeath with nothing but his inherent viciousness and a host of psychological problems to guide him, and within years he was one of the city's Hounds and a middle-rank member of the Invictus. Most Kindred go through a period of adjustment after their Embrace, as mortal morality is stripped away and the colder, more ruthless ways of the Kindred set in. This is a process that takes most Kindred -- if they live -- a half a century or more. Jacob completed it in months.

But somehow, it wasn't enough. He appreciated the rhetoric of the Invictus, of survival of the fittest, of power and dominance. But it began to ring hollow. There was just... nothing in it. Having come to full monstrousness so quickly, ennui set in with equal speed. He began to search, to experiment with the arts of murder, to vary his methods, his victims. To find something that would make his life interesting once again. And then he came upon the Resonant.

The Resonant was a child's doll, nothing more. Found at the bottom of a trash bin, with one arm ripped away, fire-damaged, and its button eyes, one blue, one black, so like Jacob's own. It spoke to him, in the echoing vaults of his mind, and that was when Jacob understood. He formed his philosophy then, of the beauty of oblivion, of the holiness of pain, of the divinity of the Beast.

He dropped slowly from sight, and he has followed it ever since, living in the moment of pain and suffering, spreading the gift. Death to those who want to live, life to those who want to die, whatever seemed most appropriate. He was the calm eye of the storm, the black heart of the flame.

He was Loki.

Loki is a serial killer, who's put a thin veneer of Brood-inspired philosophy over what are nevertheless his own debased urges. Psychologically, Loki is what would be considered a power/control killer. Powerless and tormented in his childhood, he's been paying back for it for over a hundred and fifty years now, alive and dead. He's not motivated by sadism, nor is he a thrill-killer, in the sense of enjoying the act of murder itself. Really, torture and murder have always been secondary to Loki's mindset. It's the ability to play God that was intoxicating, judging life and death.

Loki was very intelligent, once upon a time, but years of madness and bloodlust have clouded his mind. He can act in the moment with perfect clarity, but he finds concentration difficult. He's unpredictable, because Loki himself rarely knows what he will do in any given moment. He's a creature of intuition and instinct, with at best a tenuous goal glimpsed at the far end.
Covenant Belial's Brood (Formerly Invictus)
Clan Daeva
An avian bloodline from America. Bloodline Discipline – Protean. Bloodline Weakness – A -2 penalty to Anger Frenzies.
The Unholy

PMental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 5, Resolve 3
TPhysical Attributes: Strength
3+Demonic Pact
6, Dexterity 3, Stamina 4
SSocial Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation 5, Composure 3

TMental Skills: Crafts 2, Occult (Southeast Asian Occultism) 2, Politics 1
PPhysical Skills: Athletics (Throwing) 4, Brawl (Claws)
3+Demonic Pact
6, Firearms 3, Larceny 1, Stealth (Darkness) 4, Survival 3, Weaponry (Axes) 3
SSocial Skills: Animal Ken 1, Expression 2, Intimidation (Forceful) 5, Persuasion 3, Streetwise 1, Subterfuge 4

Merits: Atavism 1, Dream Visions 3, Fast Reflexes 2, Indomitable 5, Languages (Malay, Hindi, Chinese; Native is English) 3, Quick-Draw (Melee) 1, Relic (
While holding the Lighter, the user is immune to damage from fire, no matter what the source. This effect extends to what he is wearing, as well. It also protects him from incidental damage from a fire, including smoke inhalation and touching heated surfaces. Also, the character can shape and direct fire as he sees fit. Even a flame as small as the one the Lighter produces can be shaped and thrown as a gout of fire. To use this ability, the Indebted’s player rolls Dexterity + Athletics – opponent’s Defense. The attack roll inflicts lethal damage, and if the victim is wearing something flammable, ignites him. The victim suffers 4 points of lethal damage per turn while burning. After every scene in which the character uses the Lighter’s flame-shaping powers, the player must roll Resolve + Composure. If the roll fails, the character develops the pyromania or pyrophilia derangement (see sidebar).
The Devil's Lighter)
Demonic Pact
0, Relic (
Spending 1WP as a reflexive action, Loki is engulfed in flames for 3 turns, while howling winds and screaming voices whirl about him. This flame does not hurt Loki or his clothing, but is otherwise a 4L (Bonfire 2, Bunsen 2) fire. Anyone who takes damage from the flames suffers a -1 penalty to all mental and social rolls for one week. Loki may only activate this power 1/week.
The Resonant/Little Baby Burns) 5, Status (Belial's Brood; Ancilla) 3, Striking Looks
Demonic Pact
Lair: Underground Haven; Size 2, Secrecy 3

Willpower: 6
Humanity: 1
Derangements: Multiple Personality (Severe),
Variation on Lunar Illumination. If Loki is in total darkness, his blue eye seems to glow brightly, imposing a -1 penalty to Stealth checks in full darkness. His eyes also reflect the light like a cat's or owl's.
Sapphire Eye (Mild), Weight of the Grave (Mild), Cannot Set Foot on Holy Ground (Severe)

Initiative: 8 (13 w/ Celerity, 14 w/ Led by Thirst, 19 w/ both)
Defense: 5 (10 w/ Celerity)
Health: 9 (11 w/ Resilience)
Speed: 14 (17 w/ Vigor, 84 w/ Celerity, 102 w/ Both)

Blood Potency: 6
Disciplines: Auspex ●, Celerity ●●●●●, Majesty ●●●●●,
May merge with soil or processed stone; transform into a wolf, black-bird, or a swarm of rats
Protean ●●●●, Resilience ●●, Vigor ●●●
Investments: Blood Rage, Master's Will, Feet of Clay, Hiriliu, Incite Katharos, Led by Thirst
Devotions: Disquieting Mien, Husk, Stone Cling, Instantaneous Transformation, Partial Transformation
15-Demonic Pact

Infernal Pacts:
The Beautiful Killer:
The Benefit: Strength to 6, Brawl to 6, Striking Looks 4
The Sacrifice: -3 to Vitae pool (Minor x3)
The Wolf among the Sheep:
The Benefit: Skin-Stealing (as the Mother Luna 4 Gift)
The Sacrifice: Free Will (Deadly; Pride)
Pretty Flames:
The Benefit: The Devil's Lighter (Artifact)
The Sacrifice: Helpless (Deadly; Lust)

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Bird Talons............................1A..............14/17/23............Blood Rage, Flames, -2 if off-hand.
Knife.....................................1L..............11/14/20............Blood Rage, Flames
Fire Axe.................................3L..............14/17/23............Blood Rage, Flames
Colt Peacemaker.................... 3(L).......... 9/15………...............Blood Rage, Range 20/40/80, Clip 6


Grantham Holloway

[spoiler=Around London, Not in Use]Type: Wolf-Blooded.
Virtue: Fortitude. If you don’t have your principles, you don’t have anything.
Vice: Pride. Everyone has their ego; but some are larger (and more fragile) than others.

Background: Grantham Holloway was born with the proverbial silver spoon. Wealthy, high society family surrounded him. The Holloways have always been high achievers – whether in business or politics, the name Holloway and the city of London are virtually synonymous.

A private school kid, Grantham had the best education money could buy – the highest rated school in the city and additional tutelage for everything he studied. His parents gave him every advantage they could. They cared for their son in the way that many of the rich do; absently, fondly, but without much real depth or warmth. Grantham was raised by a nanny, and grew up trying to please his parents and live up to the family name.

Obtaining impressive qualifications in Law, Grantham was hired by a private law firm. He worked hard at this job, winning more than his fair share of cases. But private law wasn’t really what he wanted to do – when he was offered a position with the Crown Prosecution Service, he took it.

Eventually, Grantham’s path collided with that of Olivia Reid, a professor of archaeology. Initially only seeming interested in a case, Olivia saw great value in Grantham – and not just as a contact, or even for his blood. Their association soon sparked into a full-blown romance… not that many people even know they have met. Grantham is one of the few people who knows about the wider supernatural world, and that he himself has supernatural blood.

Together they investigated his heritage; none of the other Holloways had wolf-blood, so why did he? Their research suggested his mother had an affair with a werewolf. Attempts to track him down proved futile, but Grantham was not too concerned – if not for the affair, he wouldn’t exist.

Now Grantham works with Olivia and the Temple Guard. He knows that he won’t, in all likelihood, become a werewolf himself. But he is a valuable asset and friend in more ways than one – and maybe, just maybe, there will someday be the pitter-patter of little werewolf feet.

Personality: On the battlefield (read: the courtroom), Grantham is ruthless. Merciless. He brings the full force of his intelligence and resourcefulness to bear on his opponents. He is always prepared and thoroughly researched. This isn’t to say he always wins – who does? But he isn’t the Chief Crown Prosecutor of his area for nothing.

Otherwise, he is considerably more liberal than one might imagine for a high class lawyer. He gives generously to charity and supports various causes. Grantham’s opinions are often noted in London news, making him a minorly important figure – but unmistakeable to those who follow law and politics.

Age: Forty-one.
Eye Color: Brown.
Hair Color: Black. With perhaps one or two greys beginning to creep in.
Skin Tone/Complexion: Fair.
Hair Style: Short, simple and neat – very easy maintenance.

Figure Notes: Grant leads a fairly sedentary life, and it shows. Still, he could be in worse shape.

Clothing Notes: Suits, in general. He tends towards plain black with white shirts and single-colour ties. They are often expensive designer names – which makes it a shame that they are usually hidden beneath his court robes.

Accessories: --

Other: --.


Mental - Intelligence •••, Wits •••, Resolve ••••
Physical - Strength ••, Dexterity •, Stamina •••
Social - Presence •••, Manipulation •••, Composure ••••


Mental – Academics •••• (Law, Research), Computer ••, Investigation ••, Occult •, Politics ••, Science •
Physical – Athletics ••, Firearms ••
Social – Animal Ken (Wolves) •, Empathy ••• (Lies, Motives), Expression (Speeches) ••••, Intimidation •••, Persuasion •••, Socialize ••, Subterfuge ••

Morality 7

Merits -
Includes Unseen Sense ••• for werewolves/spirits, willpower is treated two higher for purposes of Lunacy, and free Wolf specialty if character has any dots in Animal Ken
Wolf-Blooded ••••, Resources •••, Fame •, Reason (Debate Style) •••, Contacts (Lawyers, Politicians, Police, Finance) ••••, Allies (Temple Guard) ••, Status (Lawyer) ••••, Trained Memory •, Emotional Detachment •


Defence - 1
Health - 8
Initiative - 5
Speed - 8
Willpower - 8


Silvia Androlesci

[spoiler="Banished to Italy"]Type: Ghoul
Regnant's Covenant: Cult of Augurs/Ordo Dracul
Regnant's Clan: Mekhet
Enthralled: 1726



TMental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 4, Resolve 4
PPhysical Attributes: Strength 5, Dexterity 4, Stamina 4
SSocial Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 3, Composure 4

TMental Skills: Academics 2, Investigation 4, Medicine 1, Occult 3
PPhysical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 2, Larceny 1, Stealth 4, Weaponry (Gladius, Pilum) 5
SSocial Skills: Empathy 3, Expression 2, Intimidation (Nightmarish Shout) 4, Persuasion (Leadership, Seduction) 3, Socialize 2, Subterfuge 3

Merits: Armored Fighting 2, Languages (Arabic, English, Latin; Native is Italian) 3, Fast Reflexes 2, Fighting Style (
• Testudinem Formate
Move at only half speed and cannot attack, but grants a bonus to defense against ranged weapons for each ally in the formation, to a max of +5
•• Ciringite Frontem
Forgo Defense this turn, but can make a special knockback attack with a bonus for each ally in the formation (max +5)
••• Cuneum Formate
Can make penalized attacks, but any counterattack is at a penalty proportional to the number of allies in the formation (max +5)
•••• Orbem Formate
Can form a defensive formation around a person or thing, granting a bonus to defense for each ally in the formation (max +5)
••••• Contendite Vestra Sponte
Costs a willpower point to use, but launches an attack that if successful causes an automatic point of lethal damage for each ally in the formation (max +5).
Formation Tactics) 5, Fighting Style (
• Warding Stance
Attack first against foes with smaller-Size melee weapons in front
•• Thrust
Gain 9-Again with spear or bayonet
••• Block and Strike
Take -2 to attack to receive +2 to Defense
Spear/Bayonet) 3, Quick-Draw 1, Shieldbearer 1, Small Unit Tactics 3, Striking Looks 2

Willpower: 8
Initiative: 10 (11 w/Celerity)
Defense: 7/1 (4 base, +2/1 shield, +1 Pilum) , +2 with Block and Strike
Armor: 2/3B (Bulletproof Vests)
Health: 9
Speed: 14 (28 w/ Celerity)

Disciplines: Celerity ●, Majesty ●, Nightmare ●, Obfuscate ●●●, Veneficia ●●●
Veneficia Rituals: 1st:
Drops of Destiny, Prophetic vision to answer a question, gain +2 to all rolls to investigate the image (research, say)
Appolonian Sight,
Tapas to Durga, gain +2 to Weaponry rolls involving traditional Roman weaponry (gladius, pilum), as well as +2 to Athletics rolls to throw the same
Call to Mars,
Balancing the Four Humors, until the next sunrise, suffer no penalties due to climactic conditions of extremes
Promethean Endurance; 2nd:
Dance of Doom, invert wound penalties for (successes) hours.
Strength of the Centimani ,
Gora Mukhi, gain a fearsome visage and make a frightful cry, lose the ability to use Socialize or Persuasion for the rest of the night, but gain +3 to Intimidation, and all enemies take a -3 to initiative. For a further 1 vitae, grow 1L hooves and horns.
Shout of Pan; 3rd:
receive a +3 bonus on all Stealth, perception, and Athletics (movement related only) rolls for one hour.
Diana's Blessing,
Caress of Torment, shifts wound penalties over by (successes). So with two successes, wound penalties begin in the 5th box from the right, and go up to -5.
Ministrations of the Kindly Ones
Vitae: 4/1

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Gladius................................. 2(L).......... 11/13.....
Pilum................................. 3(L).......... 13/15........+1 Defense, 9-Again
Thrown Pilum....................... 3(L)...........10/12........Aerodynamic

Note: The above includes penalties for shield (-1)

George Burton

[spoiler=Branded and Exiled from London]Type: Vampire
Covenant: Ex-Carthian
Clan: Gangrel
Bloodline: Les Gens Libres
Embrace: 1937
Apparent Age: Late 30s

Virtue: Fortitude He’s a fraud, but at the end of the day, Burton can be genuinely brave and determined in pursuit of his goals.
Vice: Sloth Burton believes in very little, so it’s unnervingly easy for him to just raise his hands and give up, content to just live another day.

Background: There is a fine line between scum-of-the-earth, loveable rascal, and ideological hero. Burton’s spent most of his life (and all of his unlife), hopping around these lines and trying not to be dissected by them.

He was born at the turn of the century, to a family of Welsh coal miners. His name wasn’t George Burton then, but Gregory Beddoes. He was destined to be consumed by the mines, ground up and spat out deep underground, far from light and life – to this day, Burton has a horror of enclosed spaces. But then opportunity came knocking, in the form of the largest war Europe had ever seen.

Burton lied about his age, changed his name, and enlisted in the British Expeditionary Force in 1917. In many ways, the trenches were like the mines. Cold, dark, with death at every corner. And yet… Burton loved them. They gave him a chance at glory, at excitement. They gave him a chance to reinvent himself as something else, other than the Welsh coal miner’s son. Burton proved to be an exemplary soldier – he was calm under fire and he had a killer instinct, and he also had a sixth sense for keeping himself in one piece. He ended the war as a sergeant, and he still keeps half a dozen medals from the war in a little box.

Then the war ended, and David Lloyd George’s “A Land Fit for Heroes” proved to look an awful lot like the mines. But Burton had other plans. During the interwar years, a man who was good with a gun and had flexible morals could always find a job. So Burton became a soldier of fortune. He served in the Russian Civil War on the side of the Whites, and later in the Mexican Revolution, in the Chinese Civil War, in the Chaco War between Bolivia and Paraguay, in Nicaragua and in the Balkans.

By the late 1930s, George Burton had fought in a dozen armies over the course of nearly twenty years. He could speak in five languages and curse fluently in a dozen more, knew how to take apart and put back together cars, boats, and small aircraft, and could operate all three. He looked every inch the soldier of fortune – grizzled, vigorous, though he’d always be short (a product of malnutrition in his childhood) – and he acted the part as well. He fought for money and for the romantic aura that surrounded the mercenary, and though he never really believed any of it, Burton got to be very good at faking ideological idealism, a kind of grand adoration for justice and truth. He had a tidy little nest egg, and he figured a few more wars would set him up for life – perhaps with some lovely slip of a girl grateful to flee a warzone. The Spanish Civil War would be his grand finale.

It didn’t quite work out. The problem was that Burton was too good at his idealistic act. One night in 1937, a Spanish Carthian swept through the Republican militia that Burton was serving in, seeking soldiers for the Movement. He embraced four Republicans that night, looking for skilled soldiers who would be dedicated to the cause. Burton’s act earned him immortality, entirely by accident.

But Burton had a way of landing on his feet, and undeath was no different. He kept his mouth shut and his eyes open, and polished his romantic legend till it positively shone. Fighting stayed just as profitable as before, and Burton blooded himself in scores of little scuffles on behalf of the Movement, and on behalf of Kindred society at large. He was pretty well set up, really. He had money, he had a bit of influence, and he wasn’t hurting for feminine companionship either (or masculine, on occasion). But something was missing.
Covenant: Carthian
Clan: Gangrel
Bloodline: Les Gens Libres

SMental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 4, Resolve 3
PPhysical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 4, Stamina 4
TSocial Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation 4, Composure 3

TMental Skills: Academics 1, Crafts (Vehicles) 4, Investigation (Surveillance) 2, Medicine 1, Politics (Left-Wing) 2
PPhysical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 2, Drive (Fixed-Wing Aircraft) 3, Larceny 1, Firearms (Pistol, Rifle) 4, Stealth 4, Survival 3, Weaponry 3
SSocial Skills: Empathy 1, Intimidation 2, Persuasion 3, Socialize 2, Subterfuge (Viva la Revolucion!) 4

Merits: Allies (International Leftist Groups) 4, Allies (International Mercenaries) 3, Carthian Pull 3, Fast Reflexes, Fighting Finesse (Knife) 2, Herd (Politically Active Students) 3, Interest Group (Debate Club, Current Events Circle) 2, Languages (Mandarin Chinese, Spanish, French, Russian, Serbian; Native is English) 5, Quick-Draw (Firearms) 1, Resources 3, Status (Carthian; Soldier of the Cause) 3,
Lair: Old, Disused warehouse; Size 4, Security 2, Secrecy 3

Willpower: 6
Humanity: 4
Derangements: Phobia (Enclosed Spaces) (Mild)

Initiative: 9 (11 w/ EotB, 13 w/ Celerity, 15 w/ Both)
Defense: 4
Health: 9 (13 w/ Resilience)
Speed: 12 (13 w/ Vigor, 60 w/ Celerity, 65 w/ both)

Blood Potency: 4
Disciplines: Auspex ●●, Celerity ●●●●, Obfuscate ●●●, Resilience ●●●●, Vigor ●
Devotions: Hair Trigger, Quicken Sight, Eye of the Beast
Vitae: 13/2

Attacks...........................Damage............................Dice Pool.....Special
Mauser Model 1898........... 4L (9-again)...................... 13/17..........Hair Trigger
Colt Anaconda………........... 3L (9-again)...................... 12/16..........Hair Trigger
Bowie Knife………............. …2L…………..…...................... 9/13..........Hair Trigger


Jenny Greenteeth
The Sunken Mother, The Thing in the River

Type: Spirit

Background: The Thing in the River is one of the United Kingdom’s river-hags, the patron of the life-demanding rivers of much of southern England. Powerful and malevolent, she wants to flood her banks, needs to flood her banks, but can be stayed with sacrifices of blood and death. She is a wretched, primeval entity. When manifested, her flesh is a sickly green and slick like a toad’s belly, and her teeth are jagged splinters of bone smeared with algae. Perhaps most unsettling are the spirit’s eyes, which quiver in their sockets like gelatinous clusters of salmon eggs.

This hag dwells in the rivers and waterways of southern England: the headstreams of the Thames, the Avon and the tributaries of each. She is a moody thing, fluctuating from periods of morbid giddiness to times of tempestuous anger. She enjoys the company of the Mara, accepting their worship and their sacrifices in exchange for her patronage, though she has no stake in their games of power and politics. When called upon, she is able to give great gifts and provide many secrets, but only at a cost. The pain or death of children is all that sates her.

The Invisible Members of the Suicide Circle of Pall Mall

[spoiler=Combat Minion Types]Type: Ghost
Born: Various
Died: Various

Background: These terrifying specters are those members of the Suicide Circle of London who have suffered the Three-Fold Death and sacrificed themselves at the liminal point between one year and the next. Unusually self-aware by ghostly standards, they now protect the living members of the Suicide Circle (a collection of eleven mortals of 'good character, high class and respectable birth') and the strange cult to which they belonged.

Invisible Members lose their humanity rapidly. Some are still human-shaped, but most are scarcely recognizable as having once been men. They are creatures that have sacrificed everything, with black, glassy eyes and rictus grins, the marks of their deaths upon them. Fingers are replaced with knives, teeth with needles, their hair turned black and shiny and carved of stone. They are stilled, dead things, but move rapidly when out of sight.

There are perhaps a hundred or so Invisible Members in London, and reputedly more exist in other cities. Though far from harmless alone, their danger comes from their unusual self-awareness and mobility (they have dozens, possibly hundreds of anchors, and are capable of moving them), and from their tendency to gather in packs of a dozen or more.


Gilbert Ward
The First Member of the Suicide Circle

Type: Ghost
Born: 1884
Died: 1929/1930

Virtue: Adventurous
Vice: Corrupt

Background: Gilbert Ward was a British lawyer who spent some time in San Francisco towards the dawn of the 20th century. While there, he became familiar with the megapolisomantic practices of Thibaut de Castries. He hanged himself in a sacrificial ritual in the liminal moment between 1929 and 1930, and in so doing, founded the Suicide Circle.

Originally Posted by Summoning
It was... a most uncanny ghost. Twice the size of a man, it resembled nothing quite so much as a clockwork angel, or perhaps some more infernal being of the machine. It's upper body was humanoid, dressed in an evening jacket with a noose for a tie, save for an open wound that bled starlight and oil onto the dirt of Kensal Green. Its hands were its most human part, with long and delicate fingers that bore a single signet ring, with a gear upon it, covered in black gloves. There was no skin visible, really, anywhere on the ghost. It's lower body trailed away into wisps of smoke and mist, but it had wings, or perhaps they were tentacles shaped as wings, a great mass of cables and wires, linked together by a slender steel mesh. The tips were composed of sharp scalpels and tiny needles, of crushing gears and spent bullet casings.

It had no head. The body had been beheaded, and in the stump the two Kindred could see a multitude of clanking gears and pistons, all stained with bloody oil.

So have I been called, and so have I come. What is your will, necromancer? The voice sounded in the vampires' minds, a lazy, casual sort of voice, concealing a boundless confidence and an infinite malice within it. Make it quick.
Type Ghost

Rank: 3
Attributes: Power 7, Finesse 6, Resistance 7

Willpower: 13
Innocence: 1

Initiative: 13
Defense: 6/6
Speed: 18
Size: 8
Corpus: 15

Essence: 20/20
Influences: Anchors ●●● (The Reform Club, The Suicide Circle, His Books)
The entity causes terror in anyone who can see it. The Numen costs three Essence and activation is contested individually with Presence + Composure + Supernatural Tolerance by anyone looking at the entity. Anyone gaining fewer successes than the entity is unable to move or speak for a turn. If the entity gains an exceptional success, the effect lasts three turns.
The entity may wound opponents at a distance. Range is equal to 10 yards per dot of Power and the entity does not suffer range penalties. The entity rolls Power+Finesse minus Defense, and deals Lethal damage.
Blast (Wing-Tentacles of Cables and Electrified Wires),
The entity may torture its victims mind via psychic assault. This Numen costs one Essence. The activation roll is contested by the victim’s Intelligence + Supernatural Tolerance. If the entity succeeds, the victim suffers the Insane Tilt (p. 211) for the rest of the Scene.
This Numen grants a mortal a vision of a task the entity wishes him to accomplish as well as a magical determination to see it through. The entity pays 2 Essence and rolls Power + Finesse. On a success, the subject receives a short vision of whatever the entity wishes him to do and is under the Obsessed Condition regarding carrying that mission out.
Implant Mission,
The entity creates messages or images in any media they would be able to access to be used by a mortal — it can write in the condensation on cold glass, produce images on computer screens, and send audible messages via phone lines. The Numen costs one Essence to activate, and if successful creates a single message.
The entity accelerates into a blur of movement. The entity chooses whether to spend 2 or 4 Essence when activating this Numen. Spending 2 Essence doubles its Speed for the remainder of the scene, while spending 4 Essence triples it.
Manifestations: Twilight Form, Image, Possess, Claim

Ban: Unknown
Banes: Royal Blood

The Shiver-Trees

[spoiler=Not Relevant]Type: Spirit

Background: In old English folklore, the aspen was thought to have been the tree that supplied the wood for Christ’s cross. You could see the tree, they said, shivering in the wind, and shivering in no wind, shivering with guilt for what it had been party to. Shiver-Trees, they called them, and considered them ill-omened.

Whether the truth fed the folklore or the folklore made them that way, nobody knows, but the fact is that the spirits of British aspen trees are also powerful spirits of guilt. They appear as impossibly thin and ancient men and women with skin like pale wood. Their hair is tangled with leaves, thorns, nails and sometimes glass and barbed wire. They feed from guilt and remorse, and work to promote those feelings and then feed from them. Their ties to Christian legend attract them to churches, and they sometimes Ride preachers and ministers, whose sermons grow ever more condemnatory, their faith twisted into a means of control. Christianity in the United Kingdom is mostly dying now, but even so, awakened Shiver-Trees can still find themselves attached to those traditionalist Christian groups that still have a powerful hold on communities in the remotest parts of the rural provinces: Ulster Presbyterians, Evangelical Movement of Wales youth camps and Scots Wee Frees are particular favorites.

No matter how pure, honest and transcendent the creed, humans have the ability to twist it into something small-minded and self-serving, without any outside help. The tragedy of these communities is that communities targeted by a Shiver-Tree don’t often notice any difference in their minister. These congregations had already been twisted into sources of potent, delicious guilt: all the Shiver-Trees need to do is harvest it.

Shiver-Trees have potent healing powers, and are often worth seeking out. Negotiation with a Shiver-Tree must always begin with an incantation, which, in its most common form, goes:

When Christ Our Lord was on the Cross,
Thou didst sadly shiver and toss.
My aches and pains thou now must take;
Instead of me, I bid thee shake.

A Shiver-Tree is bound to listen to whatever deal a petitioner who approaches in this way presents.
Type: Spirit

Rank: 3
Attributes: Power 7, Finesse 6, Resistance 10
Willpower: 17

Initiative: 16
Defense: 1
Armor: 6
Speed: 15 (Species Factor 0)
Size: 8
Corpus 18

Essence: 20/20
Influences: Aspen Trees ●●●, Guilt ●●●
Afflict a person with disturbing images from their memory and give them a mild derangement
The spirit can heal others’ wounds, typically for a hefty price. The spirit expends a point of Essence and rolls Power + Finesse. Bashing damage is healed before lethal, and all lethal damage must be healed before aggravated damage. Each success heals a level of bashing damage, while two successes can heal a point of lethal damage. The lethal damage healed can be used to mend aggravated damage, but each point of aggravated damage cured costs one additional point of Essence. (Healing two aggravated wounds calls for four successes and three points of Essence.) This Numen may also be used to help a character fight off disease or the effects of poison — each success adding to the character’s resistance rolls on a one-to-one basis.
Heal, Greater Influence x3,
This variation on Fetter allows the spirit to fetter itself in a living being rather than an inanimate object. The same rules and restrictions as Fetter apply, save that the spirit must first succeed at a Power + Finesse roll contested by the target’s Resolve + Composure + Supernatural Tolerance. A successful use of this Numen creates one of the Ridden, specifically a Spirit-Urged (see p. 166). The spirit essentially uses the living being as a fetter and its Influence to impel its “host.” The most reliable way to break the bond between a spirit using the Living Fetter Numina and its host is to force the host into contact with the spirit’s ban.
Living Fetter
Ban: A Shiver-Tree must listen to any bargain that is begun with the proper incantation, which may vary from spirit to spirit but is most commonly the above. It does not need to accept the bargain, but it will stop whatever it is doing and listen to the offer, provided no hostile actions are taken.

Tyburn Gallows-Lord
The Hanging Judge, The Deadly Nevergreen, Tyburn's Fatal Tree

Type: Spirit

Background: To close the scene of all his actions he
Was brought from Newgate to the fatal tree
And there his life resigned, his race is run
And Tyburn ends what wickedness begun

For nearly six hundred years, from the revolutionary Fitz Osbern in 1196 to highwayman John Austin in 1783, the idyllic village stream of Tyburn was a place of execution. The men of London covered over the stream and incorporated the village into London as that latter city grew to monstrous size, but still they executed their criminals there, six hundred years of nigh-constant bloodshed. Royal peers saw their final act at Tyburn, hanged for treason against the Crown alongside commoner rebels. Murderers were hanged there, and martyrs as well when the religious troubles wracked England. They hanged Oliver Cromwell at Tyburn, though he had been dead for some years by then.

They built the Tyburn Tree in the days of Queen Elizabeth I, Tyburn's fatal tree it was called. A gallows of unique construction, an awful device of triangular construction, with each of its three oaken beams capable of hanging eight miscreants at a time -- that is to say, twenty-four at once should the need arise. And it did. Mortal men called it the Deadly Nevergreen, the tree that never bore leaves, yet always had its grisly fruit. Some fifty thousand criminals 'danced the Tyburn jig' before the scene of London's executions was moved to Newgate Prison.

It is little surprise, then, that the Forsaken of London avoid that little traffic island of stone just north of Hyde Park, by Marble Arch. They fear the Genius Loci of that place, for though Justice is blind, Lord Tyburn is not. He is the wide-eyed and mad-eyed embodiment of the ultimate Law. He is the Lex Talionis, the Eye for an Eye and the Tooth for the Tooth, a bloody-handed relic of a time when they hanged thieves and priests alongside the most grotesque murderers. But there is an older aspect to Tyburn yet. Long before the gallows, long before even the Romans had come to Britain, the early Saxons had placed a standing stone at what would become the village of Tyburn, the Oswulfstane, which vanished in 1869. It has yet to have been found.

Encountered in the Shadow, Tyburn Gallows-Lord partakes of certain aspects of Odin, the Hanged Chieftain of the Gods of Norse lore. He is a great, grey-bearded man, with one eye pale and covered in cataracts, the other black as night and speckled with crimson. He has broad, killing hands, and dresses in the robes of authority of a thousand years of judges, with the Roman fasces in one hand and a gilded Celtic torc about his neck. He is seen in the company of spirits of death, sparrow spirits and hemlock spirits and the spirits of the black rabbit, which is the most knowledgeable of them all about death. Encountered in the mortal world, he is a decades-dead cadaver, burning through with Tyburn's fatal power, dressed in Victorian finery but with a noose about his neck.

He seeks the Oswulfstane, and will give anything to have it back. For what purpose, none can say, but the patronage of Tyburn Gallows-Lord would be a potent prize, if also a double-edged blade. He holds his court at Marble Arch, sitting in judgment beneath the white Carrara marble, but he can be found anywhere in London where man has slain man for the cause of Law. He frequents Old Bailey, where Newgate Prison once stood, and at Execution Dock in Wapping, where pirates were gibbeted until the tide washed over them three times.

The Numbers Ghosts
Operators, Shadow Men, bladed shadows

Type: Unknown

Background: It’s long been assumed that numbers stations are coded communications provided for spies. Some believe that they’re used by criminal organizations, be they drug runners or masters of slave markets. Certainly, numbers stations are trying to communicate something. These radio frequencies, found on shortwave and around since World War I, transmit a series of numbers or codes as read by what sounds to be a synthesized human voice. The transmissions often have simple, tonal music in the background (anything from “Hot Cross Buns” to the “Lincolnshire Poacher”). Sometimes, a series of letters is read first, read in the military style (“Charlie Oscar Tango”) then followed by numbers of a single language (which may be foreign — “zwei eins neun sechs”). A few eschew spoken codes and go for codes based on sound (such as Morse code). Whatever the recording, it’s played over and over again, obviously trying to communicate some kind of message.

These messages are transmitted over a high-frequency signal given low power, receivable only by a properly-tuned large antenna and receiver. The low power makes them difficult — impossible, in this case — to triangulate.

So, what are they? Nobody knows, or if they do, they don’t seem willing to share. No government will admit to using them, even though the United States government persecuted a group of supposed Cuban nationals (the “Cuban Five”) using a numbers station as evidence in the trial (the so-called “Wasp Network”).

Attempts to jam the stations have met with futility. Either the numbers station itself moves frequencies or, as is normally the case, the jamming attempt fails for some reason (equipment breaks down, jammer personnel go missing).

The truth is that Numbers stations are not spy tools. They are not the clandestine communiqués between drug- or slave-runners. No, these frequencies are a type of summoning, and can in fact themselves be summoned into this world. The Numbers stations are operated by the dead.

The cosmology is not precise, but it seems that some ghosts do not go to their just reward (be it Heaven or Hell), nor do they linger longer on this mortal coil, not even in a state of Twilight. No, some ghosts go to a very specific Underworld, a realm that exists beneath all else, a bleak and blasted land whose topography is bored through with bottomless holes and endless tunnels. It is here that these specters learn to serve something, some manner of utterly vast being that certain occultists identify with Typhon or Nidhogg, a titanic, serpentine horror of unimaginable potency. And it wants out, out of its grey hell and into the mortal world.

To that end, the ghosts crawl through the cracks between worlds, cracks far too small for their worm-like master, or else they’re summoned by sorcerers with more power than wisdom. This, then, is the ultimate goal of all the numbers ghosts. To create a rift between the two worlds, large enough for their master to come through.

Most do this by broadcasting their numbers, and if you can decipher them (they’re encoded, a one-time pad), then they can offer power, sorcerous control over the dead and dying. Others take a more direct approach, possessing mortals, or mages, or vampires, and trying to open a gate themselves, first to bring over more of their kind, and eventually, their master.

Physically, Operators (as these specters are called by learned occultists) or Shadow Men (as they are known in popular lore), resemble 2-dimensional human shadows. Each one has spurs or jagged blades of shadow emerging from their joints, and each seems to have a bulky, old-fashioned radio headset over their heads. They communicate only by means of their numerical code, but even if one breaks through with either magic or the Dragon’s Tongue, they are very, very mad.

Lesser Numbers Ghosts
Attributes: Power 4, Finesse 4, Resistance 4
Willpower: 8
Morality: 2

Initiative: 8
Defense: 0
Armor: 4
Speed: 0 (Operators cannot move from where they are summoned, unless they are possessing a mortal or are fettered to an object that is then moved).
Size: 5
Corpus 9

Essence: 10/10

The ghost can manipulate physical objects as though it had a pair of physical hands. It can pick up objects, throw them, open and close doors and windows, write messages -- basically anything a mortal can do with his hands. Spend one Essence point and roll Power + Finesse. The number of successes rolled determines the ghost’s relative Strength when attempting to lift and/or move an object (see Chapter 2: Attributes, p. 47, for more details on lifting/moving objects). If the successes rolled are equal to the Strength needed to lift an object, the ghost can move it up to one yard. Each extra success allows the ghost to move the object an additional yard. If the ghost wishes to hurl an object at someone and enough successes are rolled to lift the object (and reach the target), the total number of telekinesis successes is rolled as a dice pool in an attack against the target. Alternately, the ghost can make a direct attack on a victim, using its raw power to inflict cuts, bruises and bites on the victim's body. Treat this as a normal attack with a -3 modifier. The attack ignores the target's Defense trait, any available cover and any armor worn (unless the armor is supernatural in nature).

The ghost may also telekinetically wield weaponry, in which case its attack pool is Power+Finesse+(Weapon Damage)
The ghost's manifestation causes electronic equipment to malfunction due to an intense magnetic distortion. No roll is required. If the ghost manifests successfully it disrupts electronics within a number of yards equal to its Power trait. Radios, TVs and telephones emit static. Appliances stop working. Lights go out. Videotapes and camera film is erased/exposed, ruining any captured images.
Magnetic Disruption,
The ghost can broadcast its voice over a radio or television band. Spend one Essence and roll Power + Finesse. If the roll fails, nothing happens. If the roll succeeds, the ghost can repeat a message (no longer than five minutes in length) over that frequency for up to a single day (24 hours). The message is never perfect, and is usually hampered by bouts of static and other radio interruptions.
Frequency, and either
The ghost may attempt to possess a living human being and control his or her body for a short time. Spend one Essence point and roll Power + Finesse in a contested roll versus the victim's Resolve + Composure. If the ghost wins, it gains control of the victim's body for the duration of a single scene. Use the victim's available traits (except Willpower points, which are equal to the ghost's current Willpower points) and dice pools for any action the ghost wishes to take. If the mortal wins or ties the roll, the spirit fails its possession attempt. As long as the ghost has Essence points remaining it can continue to make possession attempts against a target. If a possessed body is killed or knocked unconscious, the ghost is forced out and must possess another victim if it still wishes to act. Attacks using a blessed object against a ghost in possession of a living body damage the ghost's Corpus instead of its physical host.
Possession or
Bind self to an object indefinitely
Ban: The Operators may communicate only in codes or numbers
Greater Numbers Ghosts
Attributes: Power 8, Finesse 8, Resistance 8
Willpower: 16
Morality: 0

Initiative: 16
Defense: 0
Armor: 8
Speed: 0 (Operators cannot move from where they are summoned, unless they are possessing a mortal or are fettered to an object that is then moved).
Size: 6
Corpus 14

Essence: 20/20

The Operator forces numbers and codes into the targets mind, confusing and overwhelming their minds. Spend one point of Essence and roll Power + Finesse. Anyone within 20 yards of the ghost must succeed on a Resolve + Stamina roll – the number of successes gained or be stunned for one turn (see the World of Darkness Rulebook, p. 167). Characters that are stunned suffer a –3 penalty to any Intelligence checks for the remainder of the scene.
The ghost can manipulate physical objects as though it had a pair of physical hands. It can pick up objects, throw them, open and close doors and windows, write messages -- basically anything a mortal can do with his hands. Spend one Essence point and roll Power + Finesse. The number of successes rolled determines the ghost;s relative Strength when attempting to lift and/or move an object (see Chapter 2: Attributes, p. 47, for more details on lifting/moving objects). If the successes rolled are equal to the Strength needed to lift an object, the ghost can move it up to one yard. Each extra success allows the ghost to move the object an additional yard. If the ghost wishes to hurl an object at someone and enough successes are rolled to lift the object (and reach the target), the total number of telekinesis successes is rolled as a dice pool in an attack against the target. Alternately, the ghost can make a direct attack on a victim, using its raw power to inflict cuts, bruises and bites on the victim's body. Treat this as a normal attack with a -3 modifier. The attack ignores the target's Defense trait, any available cover and any armor worn (unless the armor is supernatural in nature).

The ghost may also telekinetically wield weaponry, in which case its attack pool is Power+Finesse+(Weapon Damage)
The ghost's manifestation causes electronic equipment to malfunction due to an intense magnetic distortion. No roll is required. If the ghost manifests successfully it disrupts electronics within a number of yards equal to its Power trait. Radios, TVs and telephones emit static. Appliances stop working. Lights go out. Videotapes and camera film is erased/exposed, ruining any captured images.
Magnetic Disruption,
The ghost can broadcast its voice over a radio or television band. Spend one Essence and roll Power + Finesse. If the roll fails, nothing happens. If the roll succeeds, the ghost can repeat a message (no longer than five minutes in length) over that frequency for up to a single day (24 hours). The message is never perfect, and is usually hampered by bouts of static and other radio interruptions.
The ghost may attempt to possess a living human being and control his or her body for a short time. Spend one Essence point and roll Power + Finesse in a contested roll versus the victim's Resolve + Composure. If the ghost wins, it gains control of the victim's body for the duration of a single scene. Use the victim's available traits (except Willpower points, which are equal to the ghost's current Willpower points) and dice pools for any action the ghost wishes to take. If the mortal wins or ties the roll, the spirit fails its possession attempt. As long as the ghost has Essence points remaining it can continue to make possession attempts against a target. If a possessed body is killed or knocked unconscious, the ghost is forced out and must possess another victim if it still wishes to act. Attacks using a blessed object against a ghost in possession of a living body damage the ghost's Corpus instead of its physical host.
Bind self to an object indefinitely
This Numen allows the Manifested spirit to take control of a machine or vehicle that it has made into a fetter. By spending one Essence point, the spirit may operate the machine for the duration of a scene — the spirit can turn the machine off or on and control any moving parts, though the spirit cannot alter electrical flow. A spirit using this Numen to operate a car, for instance, would have to physically manipulate the radio knob to switch stations or turn the ignition switch to start the car. The spirit may make Finesse rolls in lieu of Drive in order to operate a moving vehicle, including all driving, control and crash rolls.
Mechanical Possession, Savant (Telekinesis)
Ban: The Operators may communicate only in codes or numbers
Eidolons, Twilight Soldiers

[spoiler=Not Relevant]Type: Revenant

Background: An eidolon is a forgotten soldier from another time. Each has an uncompleted mission, and knows exactly how to complete the mission in its new surroundings. War-wights arise from the corpses of failed or vanquished soldiers, either as a result of some alien, unknown force, or by the efforts of a necromancer. A war-wight will stop at nothing to be victorious.

Each one is focused on carrying out a military mission – any conceivable military mission may be the focus of a war-wight’s activities. Saving a comrade behind enemy lines, assassinating an enemy agent, escaping to safety over a border, taking out an enemy installation, protection a general or other VIP, and so on. Always, the mission focuses around a handful of human targets which are to be captured, interrogated, protected, killed, or rescued. There are always uncanny parallels between the war-wight’s original era and the present day. A WWII war-wight may wish to destroy a train, and research may uncover that that train had been running during the Second World War. A hotel in which an eidolon hides emerges to have been a bunker. Mortal targets always have some connection to the war-wight’s era, as descendants or historians – necromancers that use war-wights often research their own genealogies.

War-wights divide the world into allies, enemies, and bystanders. Everyone except the mission’s target (if any) starts out as a bystander. Those who help become its allies; to be used but never trusted. Anyone who poses a threat to the war-wight and actually impedes its progress becomes an enemy, to be destroyed, usually as brutally as possible. They are tough and fanatical, with uncanny intelligence compared to most undead.

When the mission is complete, the twilight soldier disappears. The damage it has caused remains. Careful examination of history books after the fact shows that the soldier, once anonymous, is now mentioned (at least parenthetically), there may even be a reference to the mission, described in the context of the war-wight’s era of origin. Each war-wight is a soldier that actually lived, with identities, personal histories and skills appropriate to their era of origin. They also have the misconceptions and prejudices of their era.

War-wights always hide their faces – behind a gas mask, under the shadow of a helmet, etc. They try to locate weapons, vehicles, and equipment from their own time. More modern war-wights find this straightforward enough, though those from earlier eras may burglarize museums or build their own gear. They operate in secrecy, believing themselves to be in enemy territory, with the attendant need for caution, though some are better at this than others. They are nocturnal creatures and are usually quiescent during the day, healing, contemplating, resting, or studying available mission information during that time.

Still, as individuals, each war-wight is different. Some look perfectly human, though others seem to be rotten or else have inhuman features (glowing eyes, claws). Most come from the 20th century (there are simply more suitable corpses available), though some eidolons can be very, very old. The majority were scouts or shock troops of some sort in their mortal lives – the kind of soldiers likely to be working alone – though any kind of fallen soldier may become a war-wight. War-wights are usually short-lived, lasting only a few weeks before they either complete their mission or fail, though those summoned as bodyguards by necromancers are more lont-lasting.

Lastly, each twilight soldier that does not serve a necromancer has a hidden sponsor. They regularly receive helpful, even essential information from a special source. Every war-wight has a different receiving method. It could be a radio, a walkie-talkie, written notes that appear in the war-wight’s equipment, spoken words from a shadowy-figure, etc. The war-wight wil keep these transmissions secret. Outsiders who discover them will find the orders to be cryptic… and the information horrifyingly true.

Twilight soldiers may be purchased as a 5-dot retainer by any necromancer (who usually have some ritual to restore the war-wight’s essence). Independent war-wights have a further Mentor (Hidden Sponsor) 4 merit. The following is a typical World War II eidolon (German).

Type: Revenant

Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 2, Resolve 3
Physical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 4, Stamina 4
Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 1, Composure 3

Mental Skills: Academics 1, Crafts 2, Investigation 1, Medicine 1, Politics (Military Strategy) 2
Physical Skills: Athletics 3, Brawl 2, Drive 2, Firearms (Rifle) 4, Stealth (Ambush) 4, Survival 2, Weaponry 2
Social Skills: Intimidation 3, Subterfuge 1

Merits: Danger Sense 2, Fast Reflexes 2, Fighting Finesse (Knife) 2, Fighting Style (
• Shoot First
Add Firearms to initiative
•• Tactical Reload
Reload as a reflexive action
Combat Marksmanship) 2, Indomitable 4, Quick-Draw (Firearms) 1

Willpower: 7
Passion: Complete the Mission (primary, other passions are subjugated to this)
Passion: Acquire weapon and equipment from its era of origin.
Passion: Obey the necromancer/Hidden Sponsor.

Health: 9
Initiative: 9 (13 w/ drawn firearm)
Armor: 2/3B (Flak Jacket)
Speed: 12

Spend 1E (up to 5) to increase Strength, Dexterity, or Stamina by 1 for the remainder of the scene. Attributes may be raised above 5.
Spirit Prowess,
Spend 1E to heal 1B; spend 1WP to be able to heal lethal or aggravated damage for the rest of the scene (at 1E per wound)
Spend 1E, roll Presence+Intimidate (7) versus Composure+Supernatural Tolerance; target is forced to flee for (successes difference) turns
Spend 1E, so long as the revenant is stationary, attempts to find it receive a penalty equal to (Dexterity).
Spend 3E and 1WP, touch a corpse, and create a zombie.
Essence: 10

Attacks...........................Damage.............Dice Pool...........Special
Combat Knife...........…………1L………………….8-13………………Spirit Prowess
Luger Pistol........................2L....................10-15................ Spirit Prowess, 8 ammo, 15/30/60 range
Sturmgewehr 44........……..4L……......…......13-18................. Spirit Prowess , 30 ammo, 125/250/500 range, fully-automatic 2(2/3/4)

Kelsey Lannigan

[spoiler=Enjoying a Life of Stardom in Las Vegas]Type: Mortal
Profession: Assistant Sound Engineer, Barista, really horrible candy-goth guitarist.
Born: 1987

Virtue: Hope Kelsey’s candy-goth persona is a reflection of her basic irrational hope that despite all evidence to the contrary things will work out for the best. It keeps her sane during her rollercoaster relationship dramas.
Vice: Lust: Kelsey’s blood simply purrs for attention.

Background: Healthy relationships is not a game Kelsey knows how to play. Her own childhood in Dublin was capitally messed up – she never knew her father, and her mother was, well, damaged. She jumped at loud noises, had screaming nightmares, and seemed to alternatively love and loathe her own daughter. She finally killed herself when Kelsey was thirteen, slitting her wrists in the bathtub on the day that Kelsey had her first period. Kelsey was the one to find the body.

After that, Kelsey lived with her grandparents, who were nice enough but never quite as warm and fuzzy as they could have been (they tried to hide it, but they always blamed Kelsey for her mother’s death, just a little). Kelsey liked them anyway, and out of respect for them she tried to keep her fooling around with boys – and later girls – discreet. But when it came time to go to college, she went to London’s University of Greenwich.

When her mum died, Kelsey had gone goth pretty hard, but it didn’t quite stick. Despite everything that has happened to her, Kelsey is one of nature’s born optimists. Her incongruously cheerful personality meant that she ended up increasingly identifying with the sub-sub-culture of happy ironic Goths. In her sophomore year of college she stopped listening to bad goth music and started making her own bad goth music with a band called Bitter Candy. One thing led to another, and somehow Kelsey ended up majoring in engineering, and especially in acoustics and sound stuff.

These days, Kelsey works as a part-time assistant sound engineer at the Theater Royale at Drury Lane, which puts her somewhere between an intern and mildew in the greater hierarchy of the theater world. But hey, she gets to work in a huge old spooky theater, meet celebrities, and hope that she’ll someday get ‘discovered’. It beats buying plane tickets to Hollywood. To make ends meet, Kelsey also works at a little local coffee shop (Impressions) popular with the theater crowd, where she most definitely stands out. Add to that playing with Bitter Candy, keeping a blog, entirely too much athletic stuff (Kelsey’s been playing football since she was eight), and a wide range of torrid romances, and Kelsey’s spare time is pretty much spoken for.

Of course, it’s not sunshine and roses, even setting aside the fact that Kelsey is usually two feet from absolute poverty. Primarily, she’s got Relationship Issues with a capital R and a capital I. On the one hand, Kelsey constantly craves attention, likely as a result of her love-starved childhood. Given that she’s friendly, flirty, and smoking hot, this means that Kelsey rarely has trouble finding romance. On the other hand, commitment scares her, and past a certain point relationship claustrophobia invariably sets in. It makes for wonderful blog fodder, but it makes Kelsey’s life one long emotional rollercoaster, as she falls in and out of love regularly.

Relationship issues aside, Kelsey is a sweet, upbeat girl who is just a bit of a ditz. She likes the idea of being jaded and world-weary and cynical, though the best she can manage is being occasionally snarky. She’s irrepressibly optimistic and irrationally cheerful, and bounces back rapidly from her regular romantic disasters. She’s definitely outgoing and a party animal, though at the same time she’s more aware than most people give her credit for. At least when she’s not buzzed or stoked off a date, she’s a very clear thinker and quite perceptive, though she’s also very easily distracted.

Description: Kelsey is just out of college, in great shape, moderately pierced and tattooed, and pretty dramatically hot. She manages to hit just the right mix between everyday good looks and the extremes of the punk-goth movement.

She’s pretty tall for a woman, at five feet, ten inches, and she’s extremely athletic – and given that she’s usually wearing tight jeans, tank tops, thigh-high boots and a couple of studded belts, this shows. Kelsey’s been playing track and field sports since she was a girl, and she’s got some definite muscle definition. Her skin is pale and much her arms and upper body is covered with pale tattoos of angels, Grim reapers, Thorns and hearts, though none of it is visible when she wears a long-sleeved jacket. She’s naturally blonde, but dyes about two thirds of her hair black (or periodically purple), leaving blond streaks as highlights. But it’s her face that gets people. It’s this kind of healthy, radiant beauty, offset by the fact that Kelsey’s eyes are different colors – her left eye is this bright, striking blue, and her right is a dark brown.

TMental Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 4, Resolve 3
SPhysical Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3
PSocial Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 4, Composure 2

SMental Skills: Academics 2, Computer 3, Crafts 2, Investigation 1, Politics 1, Science (Engineering) 2
TPhysical Skills: Athletics (Field Sports)
4, Brawl 2, Drive 1, Stealth 1, Survival 2
PSocial Skills: Empathy 2, Expression (Guitar) 2, Persuasion (Seduction)
4, Socialize (Flirt)
4, Streetwise 1, Subterfuge 3

Merits: Athletics Dodge 1, Barfly 1, Fast Reflexes 2, Fleet of Foot 3, Resources 1, Striking Looks 2
Lair: Shared Flat; Size 1, Security 2

Willpower: 5
Morality: 7

Initiative: 7
Defense: 3
Health: 8
Speed: 14


Ben Dranais

[spoiler=Playing for Manchester]Type: Mage
Cabal: The Self-Made Men
Path: Thyrsus
Order: The Free Council
Legacy: Uncrowned Kings



Virtue: Fortitude
Vice: Lust Ben has a passion for athletics (and also Whim)

Ben is Ilkin's best friend. He was born to Greek parents after they settled in Britain shortly after marriage. His family lived next door to Ilkin's in Oxford and the two boys grew up together. They've been extremely close, utterly inseparable since childhood. They went to high school and college together and though they had different majors (Ben had an athletic scholarship), they graduated together and they still live together.

Their relationship and their lives juxtaposed in a very unique way. They have spent almost all important parts of their lives together. Their birthdays are a week apart, they've entered and left relationships around the same time and they even became supernaturals on the same day.

Sometime after Awakening, Ilkin looked into the loom of Fate and it confirmed his suspicions. Their two destinies are completely, irrevocably intertwined. They were meant to share the same joys and experience the same suffering. It was as if they were twins born to different families.

Ben, like Ilkin, is athletic and hale, only moreso. He got into college on a rugby scholarship and graduated with a degree in physical therapy, but he got scouted by the London Wasps right out of college. He still plays for them. He is also Ilkin's partner in their rock climbing business.

Ben is a pretty amiable, outgoing fellow. On the Myers-Briggs test, he's definitely an extrovert and he's eager to make new friends. He tries to be friendly to Rakesh and Cae, but sometimes he's a little overwhelming in his enthusiasm. Ilkin usually brings him along to cast parties and other social events the reviewer's job has him attend. This has led to the occasional rumor that their relationship is more than "just friends," but the two manage to put most of those rumors to rest fairly readily.[/spoiler.]

J. Ilkin Aylesworth
Seingalt, Jack Clements

[spoiler=In New York]Type: Mage
Cabal: The Self-Made Men
Path: Acanthus
Order: The Free Council
Legacy: People of the Hour
Paradigm: Tarot cards

Virtue: Prudence
Vice: Lust

Background: Jason Aylesworth is known today by many other names. He is Jack Clements, movie reviewer for the Times and producer, director, writer, and advocate of Indie films. He is Seingalt, one of the most well-recognized Acanthus mages in London and the Emissary to the fae courts. But he wasn't always known by these names.

Once, long ago, he was simply Jason. His parents called him "Ilkin," his Turkish name. His father Milton was a British man and his mother Nevra, a Turkish woman Milton met on a business trip to Istanbul. The two married and moved near the Turkish community in Hackney and there, they had a son.

Jason was a wily, chipper youth growing up. He was wide-eyed, curious, and always poking his nose into things just to see what was going on. He got into trouble with other people a lot, but always managed to wiggle his way out of it, sometimes with the help of his best friend Ben.

Ben and Jason got along fantastically from the moment they met. Ben had dreams of being a star rugby player, and Jason had dreams of being a movie stuntman. Their shared orientation toward athleticism helped them work well together. Jason's outgoingness and Ben's calmer, more focused center played off each other remarkably well.

Both boys played on rugby and soccer teams in school, but as Jason grew older he found his knack for social discourse lent itself really well to non-athletic pursuits. He still had dreams of joining the film industry, but he was no longer so motivated to become a stuntman. He wanted to shoot bigger, aim for the top and become an actor, or better, a director and executive. Little did he know, his dreams were only a few steps away.

After graduation, Jason, Ben, and a few other friends went on a summer backpacking trip on the European mainland. It was on this trip that the two boys Awakened simultaneously. They'd gone on a hike by themselves early one morning and were just stopping for a break before turning around when they found themselves whisked off to another plane

Jason later described the event as a smooth transition from a normal forest to a feylike one. He sat down on a rock and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he found Ben gone. He assumed Ben had just gone off to take a piss. Gradually, he realized he wasn't in the same forest anymore. He found the Watchtower gleaming in the distance, felt the inexplicable pull of its call, and traveled there. At the top, he added his name to the list of countless others and in a flash of light, found himself back in the Fallen World. Ben would later recount a similar experience.[/spoiler.]

Councilor Jeremiah Pembroke

[spoiler=Dead and Staying That Way]Type: Ghost-Mage
Born: 1836
Died: 1914

Background: Some are born to greatness. Others come into it from humble beginnings. And others still, like the former Councilor Jeremiah Pembroke, are given the world, but that power only leaves them with a taste for more. Born into a wealthy family, he wanted for nothing and due to that found within himself a desire to posess everything he possibly could.

This curiosity, and desire for the power he felt entitled to lead him to esoteric avenues of research, with the works of John Dee occupying his early twenties. He would speak the language of angels, and remake the world if he saw fit. And this was despite at the time, not posessing a bit of supernal power.

He bounced from occult group to occult group, caught up in the endless dabbling, running through a good bit of his inheritance (both his parents passing away at a relatively young age, but leaving enough in investments that his lifestyle wouldn't be impacted in an unfortunate manner). It was while on a trip of "self discovery" in India that that changed, his awakening occurring on the banks of the Ganges in Benares. Confronted not by Ganesh, but by an Angel bearing torn wings and a broken sword, he was given a glimpse of the fallen world, and the Pandemonium above it.

With power now at his command, Jeremiah Pembroke (Shadow name Sandalaphon) quickly entrenched himself in the magical politics of London. Due to his desire to bring the Supernal closer to the Fallen, and his background of privileged, the Silver Ladder appealed to him, though he developed close political ties with the Mysterium. It was these ties which allowed him to accomplish what he did in his relatively short active time as a mage. (1858 to 1914)

Pembroke was a believer that mankind was fallen much like the world they inhabited, and there was a need to return to a "purer" state. With this belief in mind, he developed several mystery cults based around a spiritual revelation that in private, he claimed to have received during his awakening. This "Revelation of the Fall" claimed that the fallen host was not in fact, the demons and devils of hell, but mankind itself. Humanity was thus inherently divine. And though he did not let this on to his lay followers, some members more divine than others.

In meetings, he engaged in summonings, bringing forth angels and commanding them with their own language, the supposed lost tongue of mankind he called the Alter Tongue. While mostly spiritual summonings, he engaged in several activities that were considered suspect even by Thearchs of the time, such as "purchasing" two infants from a destitute woman, and raising them without contact with human language. It was his belief that they would come to develop a purer form of the angel's tongue, and there were rumors amongst magi who had met with the two (A boy and a girl, fraternal twins) that their babbling resonated much like the high speech, but such talk was only rumors. The children were not seen after 1880, at that time in their early teens. Of them, Pembroke would not speak.

It was in 1870 that the former councilor of the Silver Ladder (Thomas Miles, Shadow Name Selvans) passed away in his sleep. Although there was talk of foul play, political ties with the Mysterium and the current Hierarch Redcrosse kept suspicion away from Pembroke, and by leveraging favors he claimed the position of Silver Ladder Councilor.

With his new position providing him a degree of political leverage, Pembroke began to delve even further into his attempts to return mankind to the height of angels. He corresponded with Crowley and other mortal occultists of the day, occasionally letting slip bits of supernal truths, in an attempt to inspire them to greater acts of discovery. (He himself stated that he found the results often sadly disappointing.)

Although he was obviously at this point, spiraling perilously close to acts of profound hubris, his angelic associates and those magi and mortal occultists he had won over with knowledge and temporal power made deposing him difficult, as did his friendship with the Hierarch of the time. He began to speak extensively of attempting to contact "The Qabalistic Ain Soph Aur, the holy fire itself." The ritual he utilized didn't match any known supernal magic, but it did receive results, summoning an entity that proceeded to cause a localized disruption, costing the lives of five of Pembroke's mortal devotees, and two young magi (Eleanor Hall, Shadow Name Verity and Michael Brook, Shadow Name Jacob) who had come to investigate the disturbance, and injuring three more (Ricardo Minelli, Shadow Name Oculus; Albert Higgins, Shadow Name Aleph; Francis Strickland; Shadow Name Milton).

At this point, the council was presented with the issue of what to do on the matter. After all, his summoning had gotten results, and the result was declared to be "not of the abyss". Of course, that declaration was made by Hierarch Redcrosse. It was this that presented the last straw for the Guardians of the Veil and more conservative members of the Silver Ladder, who began the uprising that would put Civitas in power. Pembroke was declared to be a practicioner of a forbidden left hand path by a unanimous vote 3 days after Civitas was formally recognized as Hierarch, with his "revelation" burned, and his execution carried out formally by Kore, the newly appointed Councilor of the Silver Ladder.

And after that, besides cautionary tales, nothing more would be said of Jeremiah Pembroke, or his angels.
Type Ghost

Attributes: Power 9, Finesse 7, Resistance 8
Willpower: 16
Morality: 1

Initiative: 15
Defense: 2
Armor: 7
Speed: 26
Corpus: 13

Essence: 20/20
Numina: Blast, Phantasm, Dement, Possession, Terrify
Mysteries: Foretelling ●●●, Fortune ●, Mind ●●●, Passion ●●●●●, Shadow ●●●●, Twilight ●●●●

Attacks...........................Damage.....Dice Pool.....Special
Blast.....................................0L.............16.............+2 per Essence spent

Sharon Kyffin

Type: Human
Born: 1990


Virtue: Righteous
Vice: Short-Tempered

Background: The Kyffin family has been working with plants for almost seventy years now, ever since Sharon's grandfather came back from the War to find that a German bomb had turned his lovely farm into a hole in the ground. A laconic Welshman with the gift of charm and a green thumb, Sharon's Grandpa Albert founded a florist's shop in the wreckage of WWII Britain, and against all expectation, Kyffin Flowers flourished like a well-watered weed. Fast forward to the present, where Sharon grew up surrounded by an extended family consisting of equal part cousins and magnolias.

Curious and intelligent, if a bit hair-trigger, Sharon bore the weight of parental expectations lightly. She passed through the local comprehensive with grades that were good if not earth-shattering, and soon took to studying business at Westminster University. The basic expectation was that Sharon would get a MBA and then come and help the Kyffins run their business. Sharon didn't really mind it, since there was something to be said for having a place in the future, especially given the economic crash.

Of course, like most teenagers, Sharon rebelled, or at least as much as someone still living with her parents could (her parents, who had grown up in the sixties, were fairly understanding). She'd been attracted to comic books and random strangeness for as long as she could remember, and the progression to full-blown goth-punk was a logical one. She took to visiting a variety of clubs in the London area, dating, and occasionally browsing the British Library for weird books on the occult, though Sharon was never more than a dilettante, and far from any true revelations. She took the name of 'Ivy' as a sort of nom de goth, since she had red hair and was around plants all the time, and adored Batman with the fanaticism of a true fan girl. Overall, Sharon was normal... and then she met Amelia Redding.

Ivy's an intelligent young woman, sensible if more curious than is sometimes good for her (if it's hidden, it must be worth knowing, right?) Finances conspire to keep her living in a room over the florist's shop with her parents, but as a result Ivy's tried to be as independent as possible in other ways. Ivy does not take guff from anyone, and she stands up for what she believes and for the rights of others. She's modern, emancipated, and perhaps a trifle more confrontational than she needs to be, but Ivy does not suffer fools or annoyances gladly.

Ivy's a statuesque stunner, on the tall side for a woman at 5'8'', with the long, muscular limbs that show that she still plays football with her friends and cousins. She's a redhead, with a sort of dark auburn color to her hair that goes well with her brown eyes. A few tattoos, including red scrollwork on her left arm and black ivy crawling about her wrists. When outfitted in full Goth Mode, she usually wears highly revealing outfits of short skirts and small tops in shiny black leather with lots of brass or faux-bone accessories. She dyes part of her hair black, and wears black lipstick, and puts a small bouquet of black leaves or flowers in her hair. Day-to-day, she usually reverts to heavy cargo pants and long-sleeved shirts in neutral earth tones, preferably things that don't rip easily when they catch on thorns or what not.

Rank: 1
Mental 3; Physical 0; Social 3
Willpower: 1
Notable Powers: Sensible; On to Amelia