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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A beginning
Topic Started: Friday, 15. May 2015, 17:33 (321 Views)
Fallenkezef
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Fledgling
* *
William stared at the pay phone, not quite sure what to think. He still had time to leave, take John and move on, maybe go home to Norwich, maybe go back to the continent.
London was so different, hell England was so different, 70 years had changed so much and he wasn't entirely sure he liked it.

The phone could even be a trap, a method for the local Sheriff to round up incoming Anarchs, eliminate potential threats before they could organise, before they could make trouble for whoever was Prince.

A pack of lads, drunk, loud and proudly wearing Spur's shirts walked by shouting and singing, a momentary distraction that broke William's chain of thought. He watched them go and smiled, at least some things don't change, beer and football. William chuckled and muttered aloud, under his breath.

"I need to find a Norwich City shirt at some point."

For a moment he lost himself to memory. The pubs where full when Norwich won the league back in 1934, sure it was only the third division south, but times where hard and people needed something to give them joy and hope. William remembered relieving drunk fans of their pocket watches and wallets, easy pickings, almost too easy. Some of the fools drunk away a week's wages, celebrating a bunch of blokes kicking around a leather ball.

A ringing sound broke the moment and snapped William back into the present. He hesitated, still unsure before shaking his head and picking up the receiver.

"Good evening, my name is William Sculthorpe."
Edited by Fallenkezef, Sunday, 17. May 2015, 20:36.
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Tsar Ilya the First
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Claiming Tsar
* * * *
[avatar=http://www.artofthestate.co.uk/photos/bt_phonebox_night.jpg][alias=Khoza]Staring at his own feet, dangling in the border of the gas tower, Ilya considered his options. Like the cat that has climbed a tree too high, and doesn't want to jump... only he wanted to jump. The only things stopping him were the material ones. Jumping from that height was probably going to ruin his phone, his tablet, and his tracksuit. Practicality was telling him to try to climb down, but he wanted to jump, and to feel his bones shattering against the ground. Why was so hard to find middle points?

He could just get naked, leave it all up here, and task some of his flesh machines to pick it up later... And just jump. That was a nice idea. He started removing his clothes, mildly excited about something, for once. He stood there, feeling the wind against his skin, about to take a leap of faith against the concrete, somehow wishing the impact would miraculously detach his head from his body, and finish the agony... And his phone rang.

It was the special ringtone, the one that was there to tell him that somebody had picked up the pay phone at 777 High Street. Jumping would have to wait. However, if this was a drunken flesh machine wasting his time, he was going to go there, and rip its limbs apart, and then feed them to the members of its family. And that was a promise.

The voice at the other side gave a name. That was unusual. Good. The hidden camera that pointed at the phone booth showed him a man with sunglasses. That was a good sign.

"Hello, William. How did you get this number? Who are you trying to find?"
Languages:

Russian, Japanese, English, French, Finnish, German

Oleg's Voice

You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza.
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Fallenkezef
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Fledgling
* *
William considered his options, if this was a trap he'd have to word things very carefully. The Cammies where very keen on those traditions after all. Suddenly he realised he'd paused for longer than would be considered polite.

"I recieved this number and instructions at a Gather near Munich. A kindred spirit told me I could find a sense of freedom here."

William grimaced, instantly regretting his words, "kindred spirit" probably won the 2015 cliche of the year award. He hoped that itchy feeling between his shoulder blades wasn't the herald of a high calibre present from the local sheriff.
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Tsar Ilya the First
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Claiming Tsar
* * * *
[avatar=http://www.artofthestate.co.uk/photos/bt_phonebox_night.jpg][alias=Khoza]Jumping was out of the question, now. At this point, he was just a naked man, on top of a gas tower, talking on the phone with somebody who had picked a random call from a payphone. What an unexpected turn of events, pulling him from his own metaphysical cloud of self observance, to the mundane world of every day things.

Still, the abyss was staring at him, demanding him to jump. Would he be able to maintain a phone conversation while falling? It would be a very short test. Maybe one second and a half; two seconds tops. He would need to find a higher tower... a much higher tower. And a helmet, so the whistling air did not hinder the conversation... All complications. And when he smashed against the ground... then what? Conversation over? Nonsense.

"Great. Thanks for picking up the call. Somebody will be waiting for you close to that location, in Tottenham Hale. There is a small green at the entrance of the residential area. He will be there. He will give you a sports bag with a tablet inside. In the tablet, there will be an icon labelled 'Khoza'. Press that icon, and you'll start talking to me. The one giving you the bag has specific instructions not to talk to you, or stare at you. He will just be there, and he will follow you until you return the tablet. I am sorry about this, but recent events have forced us to establish quite strong security measures. If you have trouble getting your bearings, check the map at the bus stop just in front of you. You'll find the place in a matter of seconds."

There was a scratching noise, and the line went dead. He had ended the conversation, just like that. It was becoming a strange habit of him, finishing conversations in such a rude way... He proceeded to pick his clothes off the floor, and get dressed once again. He needed to find a way of climbing down that gas tower.

OOC NOTE
Languages:

Russian, Japanese, English, French, Finnish, German

Oleg's Voice

You may know me as Yuri Mikhailov or as Khoza.
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