Vampire The Masquerade RPG
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The Times
The Kindred Chronicle
Key Figures
THE MONSTER OF EALING
Last night, several people reported the sighting of a "screaming red monster" in a quiet neighbourhood of Ealing. After a power shortage in the area, a building caught fire. It was then when, what was described as a "man shaped, footless creature" emerged from the flames, leaping, running, and screaming. One woman has told our reporters that the man had "teeth like a wolf, and the face of the devil". Police officers are still trying to get to the bottom of this; neither the power shortage nor the fire have still been explained. A spokesperson from Scotland Yard has stated that the "so called monster" might be a wounded person, escaping the fire.

TRAGEDY IN TOOLEY STREET
The police has found the bodies of three TFL workers in the construction site at Tooley Street. One of their colleagues raised the alarms last week, when the three workers didn't attend their shifts. The bodies of the men have been found in a deep hole, uncovered by the refurbishment works that are taking place in the area. According to the Police, the bodies were horribly mutilated, which has led to the wildest speculations. The names of the three workers are being kept anonymous, following the wishes of their families.

HOROSCOPE
MARCH 8 - PISCES
You are used to making sacrifices, to prioritising the happiness of others before yours. Even though that is a noble attitude, there are times in life where the only healthy alternative is to embrace your own selfishness and allow yourself some enjoyment. Reserve one hour per day to do something you really like. Treat yourself! Your colour for this month is blue.
Echoes from the past ring back into London. Their intensity increases until they are deafening. What once was a faded memory of a glorious time, now becomes a shocking reality. The consequences of actions taken decades ago ripple into the present, altering the lives of everybody in the City. Unguided and blind, Kindred wander around, trying to make profit out of the reigning chaos.


The appearance of four mysterious figures turned the city upside down. Mistrust and jealousy became the official currency of London. Serpents and fiends rise to power, misdirecting the blaming eyes of the Camarilla towards imaginary enemies. Only those with clear vision and the ability to trust each other strive, while the rest run towards a shallow grave.



Across The Board
Current Chronicle: Dragons and Lions; Pride and Fire
Current Season: Spring
Controlling Sect: Camarilla



Index
Getting Started
General Information
Central London
North London
East London
West London
South London
Miscellaneous
Out of Character


Population: 31

Camarilla
Anarchs
Other
Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 5 (6)
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 7
Tremere: 2
Nosferatu: 3
Gangrel: 1
Ventrue: 1
Toreador: 0
Brujah: 2 (3)
Malkavian: 0
Nosferatu: 1
Gangrel: 1
Setites: 5
Sabbat: ???


THE CAMARILLA

Prince

Nobody

Sheriff
Meredith Furlong
Hounds
Robyne Sheridan
Rosella Marie Allain


Keeper of Elysium
Davvad Bisset

Grand Harpy
Catherine Wilke

Primogen
Ventrue: Marcus Antonio Russo
Brujah: Thomas Krusen
Gangrel: Alexa Mallik
Malkavian: Ellora Reese
Tremere: Hannah Sundling
Toreador: Arsenio Pozzi
Nosferatu: Dogan Khojak



ANARCHS

Baron

Khoza

Baronets
Enfield: Leslie
Haringey & Barnet: Clarice Harris
Harrow: Jelena Korolenko

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Welcome To The Night

You find yourself in London on a dreary, foggy night like any other. But what lurks in the shadows is the stuff of fantasies and nightmares, far from mortal reality.

This game uses the cursed and immortal vampiric condition as a backdrop to explore themes of morality, depravity, the human condition, salvation, and personal horror. We are a writing and roleplaying community dedicated to telling complex and engaging stories.

Your fate is your own. Mingle among the ivory-tower elite in the Camarilla, join the fight of the discontented and chaotic Anarch rabble, or set out independently and attempt to survive in London's nighttime underworld. Anything is possible in our World of Darkness.

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Enfield's Theory of Spontaneous Combustion: Scientific Progress Goes Boink; Closed (Raposa, NPC)
Topic Started: Sunday, 22. June 2014, 17:33 (208 Views)
Bounce
Dweeb
* * * *
"What's this then?"

The darkness was pulled away, a harsh light flooding the thin membrane of flesh which covered his eyes as the sheet was pulled away from the boy's ragged body. Though he was lying still, the youth felt himself being moved around as though on a wheeled gurney. Around him, two distinct voices conversed above him.

"Phil and George just wheeled 'em in. Called in as a hit and run on North Eisley..."

"That's over by that pub what Bill likes, yeah?"

A pair of latex gloved hands grabbed hold of the youth's arm, two fingers pressing against his limp wrist for a moment as the pair continued their conversation.

"Right. Seems some duffer hit 'em and buggered off like a bat out of hell. They started CPR in the ambulance, but he's had it."

The boy's arm was lowered back down. A moment later, the same two fingers jutted against the side of his neck like a knife-hand to the carotid artery. "Bloody hell, I hate kids," the boy overheard the man mutter aloud.

"Jill said they wanted to see if anyone claimed him before we started any post mortem work up. You want to go ahead and make the initial call now though?"

The hand was removed from his neck. The boy picked up the sound of something scraping, like a clipboard being picked up, followed by a pencil scratching against paper. "Right. Time of death... nine seventeen."

A loud clatter echoed sharply in the boy's ear, as the clipboard he imagined had just been written on was cast aside carelessly. There was a pause, followed by a loud sigh. "Fuck. I'm out for a fag. You?"

"Yeah. I'll grab a fag with you, mate."

There was a brief sensation of vertigo, a tilting as though the surface he was situated on was being lifted and moved. Then a loud, rolling scrape of ball bearings as a column of darkness shut out the light. The sound of a door being shut muffled everything, though the boy's hearing adjusted to strain to hear the sound of feet moving across the cement floor. And a door swinging on it's hinges.

The corpse's eyes flew open, a swift move with one foot kicking open the freezer compartment door as the young Warlock gripped the sides of the body refrigerator he was now in and pushed his way out. As the stainless steel table he was on came rolling out of the freezer, the boy found himself in a morgue.

The closest morgue to the Night Tripper.

The most likely place for the bodies to have been brought.

Swinging his legs off of the table, the boy pushed the table back inside of the refrigerator and shut the door before he stopped to take stock of his current condition. His chest hurt. Fire snaked up his sides as he moved from the ribs that had been cracked by the EMTs application of cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Not to mention his head still hurt from having hit it after getting hit by Morgan driving that damn beater of a car he'd picked out for the job.

Stretched back, arcing an arm up over his head, the small Kindred felt a warm sensation creep through his body as everything knit itself back into place. The ribs mystically moved back into one piece. The gash on the left side of his head, which had nearly severed that ear from the rest of him, pulled itself all back together. Wiggling his jaw from side to side, the youth reset that with a loud pop and then looked around the interior of the morgue.

Reaching into the trouser pocket of his jeans, the youth fished out a small flashlight and began glancing at some of the charts that were posted by the various occupied compartments in the refrigerator.

The High Apprentice ought to be joining him shortly. No doubt with some falsified credentials and a poppycock story that she was here to do a post mortem and wasn't to be disturbed. And with her powers of persuasion, he doubted that she'd be questioned on any of it.

In the meantime, the boy's light illuminated a chart that had a time and date on it which seemed to line up with what he might be looking for. Cracking open the compartment, the boy wheeled the body out to get a glimpse at what might be behind door number one...
Posted Image

To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream -- ay, there's the rub.
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come...

- Bill Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act III, scene i


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