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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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Junk mail; Attn:Renard
Topic Started: Friday, 7. August 2015, 15:25 (309 Views)
Paco Wilschire
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Childe
*
A small brown oak box arrived for the prince. It appeared to a newly purchased box as it lacked the marks or wear of time. It was the kind of keepsake box one might keep something important in. It had a single keyhole and taped to it was a single silver key. Opening the box revealed two items. One was a small neatly wrapped package of macadamia nuts, with a small tag labeling them Alexander and Bell. The second item was a small white sheet of card paper, the type that usually came in junk mail or loan offers. The front of it had a postcard like picture of Waikiki beach with golden sand and palm trees waving in the breeze. On the back was a hand written note in ink with an italic style.

Ride the wave to a new age of financial prosperity

Are your investments prepared for the future? Are your financial assets secured? Can you guarantee growth not just now but in the future? Is your money working for you?

Let my financial expertise work for you. My approach is based on a different philosophy focusing on: Market Volatility, Inflation, Taxes, and Longevity. My financial assessment will help you grow your wealth both now and into the future. I will give you the tools to provide education, confidence, and trust. Interested in a free consultation? Just call the number listed below.

There has never been a more exciting time to begin managing your future. Call Today

+44 (0)20 7661 ****
Paco Wilschire
Financial Advisor and Investment Strategist
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Renard
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Nimble fingers lifted the lid from the small brown oak box and carefully placed it on the surface of the desk, right next to the box it belonged to. Curious eyes peeked into the box before the long fingernails fished a bag with Macadamias out of the box and the same eyes sized them up with raised eyebrows. Cleo shook her long black curls and called across the room.

"Hey, Griffin, look at this !"

"Eh ?"

"Looks like someone sent some... nuts to the boss."

"Nuts ?"

"Macadamias, expensive stuff, or so I heard."

"Ehhhhh, some trick to gain attention perhaps ?"

"You think ?"


"Well, the box didn't explode yet, did it ?"

Cleo looked around and found the room was still in one piece. She shook her head and dug through the box further, pulling some sort of card out of the box. She frowned and threw the card over to Griffin.

"What do you make of this, Griff ?"

Griffin scratched his head.

"Thats either some guy with money and serious balls fishing for customers or one of the most elaborate trolling attempt I've ever seen. Ever heard of the Wiltschire guy ?"

"No, you ?"

"Let me think..."

Griffin scratches some of the leathery pink skin between his flappy, bat-like ears as he looked for the answer in his memory.

"No, the name doesn't ring a bell, either he's not a local or someone who avoids the spotlight well. At least it has more style than sending an email. I'd run a background check, if the guy's serious, something's up. Might be some code, perhaps the boss knows."

He went over to the telephone and dialed a number, waiting until someone answered the phone.

"Griffin here. We have this box adressed for you. Did you expect something... ? Ah, I see... No, all's good, it just looks like a bag of nuts and a letter that tries to attract attention to some assessment service... Yes, investment and Financial advice... Wiltschire's the name... Erm, that'd be Macadamia nuts... Uh-huh... Yeah... OK. We'll be right on it... Thank you and you too !"

The call ended. Cleo was filing her long nails and looked at him expectantly.

"And ?"

"What do you think ?"

Griffin took the card and dialed the number on it, before extending the receiver to his colleague.

"Do you think we could use some of your charm here ?"

"Nooo, I'm good. I trust you to be able to do this all alone."

She winked and returned her attention to her fingers. Griffin gave a resignated grunt and waited to be connected.
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Verba docent, exempla trahunt !
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Paco Wilschire
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*
The flat head screw driver clicked against the worn screw as it drove it in against the fitting. The hole had been drilled a bit too large, and no amount of application or force seemed to fix the issue. His eyes glared at the contraption, two hands holding a small white non-descript instruction manual. The manual opened to page 3-B, written in a font so small; it could have qualified as a new language. On the floor was a mess of wires and a small black rotating camera among them. Against the corner was a broken black cardboard box that read on the side in bright yellow print, “Do it yourself”. Paco was beginning to loathe those words.

He had perched himself on the top of one of the bathroom stalls. His body propped between the wall and the corner edge. Had anyone seen him that night, the frustration on his face, even in his current state, would have been obvious. He threw the manual against the small box in the corner. He had reached his boiling point in this matter, and would have to tackle it another night when his mind was more at ease. He begrudgingly knew though he would have to do something soon as the Sabbat was libel to pay him a visit sooner or later. This was a new city, and he couldn’t rely on being short of eyes or ears. He hoped down and intended to tackle the problem once more when the phone rang.

He was well aware many of his brethren had taken the leap into the digital age of cell phones exclusively. Paco had a cell phone, but still preferred to use an old fashioned rotary phone for his home residence. He found the familiar ringing to be oddly comforting. He coughed a few times, and spit before picking up the phone. His voice sounded old and worn, but it still was better than his appearance.

“Aloha ahiahi. “

He still liked to use a bit of Hawaiian for his own personal amusement. He supposed it was hypocritical to loathe a society and yet use their words, customs, and traditions in daily life. He really didn’t care though, he enjoyed oddity. He took a small breath and continued,

“Welcome to Wilschire Financial Services and Investment Strategies. This is Mr. Wilschire, how may I help grow your portfolio?”

Paco was fairly certain of who was calling him. He had only provided his land line number to one individual, in one very specific package. The prince was calling him, or the Sabbat had decided to attack the post and steal a box of Macadamia nuts, he supposed stranger things had occurred. He could never predict the Sabbat that was part of the problem he had with them. There was always a bit of a game to the masquerade, a bit of posturing in introductions, at least that had been the case in New York. London was different, and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Formally he was to declare his presence in the city, but he only needed to do that to a select few, and he wanted to be sure who was on the other end of the line first.
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Renard
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Griffin was able to identify some aloha-something. Not much that helped but it sure looked like the number was not a hoax. Which meant it would be easy to see what the box had originated from and what the reason for the sending had been. He cleared his throat and gave himself a pass at Henderson's voice.

"Good evening. Mr Wiltshire ! I have this box here that has been sent to me with a bag of Macadamia nuts and some sort of card in it, advertising the services of your company. I was wondering whether this had any special meaning or if you were just trying to advertise your company in order to draw attention to your endeavour. I would be most thankful if you could help me make up my mind about how to treat your package, if you don't mind."

Phew, he has some practice writing like Henderson, but talking that way ? It was a bit harder, especially when trying to emulate the tone and accent.
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Paco Wilschire
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Paco kept his long ear against the phone. His right foot lifted to scratch his left thigh slightly. The voice sounded peculiar, but he had not heard a British accent since his father all those years ago. The individual had the information to indicate he had the package; the nuts were a useful signature. His questions while straight forward lacked a bit of the flair he might have expected from a Prince. While part of him found it far simpler to just announce the facts, he still respected the masquerade. He would go through the game step by step. Paco put on a smile no one saw, and continued in a pleasant if worn voice.

“I am so pleased you received my gift, a little item from my days in the pacific so long ago. A small tribute put me into your royal graces.”

There were small meanings behind the words that most could catch on to, such as royalty, indicating a title. He assumed it would do well to toss in a few more, just to assure he was talking to someone in the grand game.

“I am a kindred spirit, a financial guru who has recently arrived to London. I think we have a great deal of business between us, but there must always be a bit of formality to the masquerade of financial introductions.”

A bit of the word play out of the way, he did his best to get to the financial matters at hand. Paco could move in the financial world of stocks, trades, and funds quietly when he desired. He first though had to understand the players and the layout of the market beyond the stock caps and large trades published in the paper. He planned to structure a unique method to draw them all out; he would need permission though before he went flexing his muscles. He may not be the youngest of immortals, but he was certainly not the oldest. He continued on in the tone of pleasant conversation,

“When you find time in your busy schedule, you should review your portfolio as it relates to the Canary Wharf district; a unique business opportunity will be forming in the area. Tell me are you familiar with the idea of an IPO, an initial public offering? “
Edited by Paco Wilschire, Wednesday, 12. August 2015, 16:53.
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Renard
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Griffin listened and the familiar code-words registered. This whole conversation started to resemble an article in a less-than-respected tabloid. A lot of hot air with some key words showing what this was all about in reality.

"I can't say I am, no. But I can tell you what I'm familiar with, Mr Wiltshire. Proceedings. And one of the points of proceedings is to give at least a hint about what you want in your initial act of contacting us, instead of making us phone you. You want something, you come to us, it's as easy as that. Making me run after you is a good way to put yourself out of my royal graces again, Mr Wiltshire. I hope I have made my point clear ? Good.

Now, if you'd like to schedule an appointment or something like that, I'd suggest you send a note to the address you obviously have, clearly stating your intent and who you'd want to talk to about it. Good evening, Mr Wiltshire."


With that, Griffin ended the call and looked back to Cleo.

"I'm pretty curious what will happen next. How was I ?"

She looked up and held her fingers against the light, peering at them with her head tilted and one of her eyes closed.

"A mediocre B, you need to watch your language a bit more and the modulation needs some work, but I'd say its a solid base to work from, just stay on guard for slip up's. You think we'll hear from the Wiltshire guy again ?"

"I think, yeah. He did use the usual speech, a bit long-winded perhaps, but then, the boss always had more tolerance for that than I do. I can't stand people talking just to move the air."

"Remind me what you did for a living, dear ?"

"Ehhh, shut up."
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Paco Wilschire
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Paco listened to the comments provided, and neither interrupted nor offered any commentary. It was a rather one side conversation. Paco heard the usual click as the other side ended the conversation. The dial tone was quite familiar, and reminded him of his days as a cold caller. He had been much younger, but he remembered calling wealthy and powerful men trying to get them to buy in on worthless stocks and junk bonds. Kindred might think themselves separate from the emotional pulls of men, but powerful men were powerful men regardless of blood color. The Nosferatu brought a singular finger to his chin and scratched the pale brown skin. He voiced to himself,

“A counter offer, curious…”

He shuffled back over to the Camera, and picked up a long yellow wire. He picked back up the small non-descript manual and began again.

Two nights later:
Another package arrived at the same address. This time it was a slightly larger package. If it was opened, the package contained two items. The first was a long wreath like necklace of seashells and vines woven together; it was referred to as Lei by Hawaiians. The second, and equally peculiar, was a credit application filled out. It read as follows:

Personal Information:
Name: Paco Wilschire
Telephone: N/A
Address: Bow, E-3-Derelict Public Conveniences
City: London
Country: England
E-mail:Paco.Wilschire@gmail.com
Date of Birth: Jan 10, 1942

Current Employer:
Company Name: Camarilla
Business Address: New York City, New York
Position Held: Member

Source of Income:
Salary: Generous
Assets: None
Other Sources of Income: Loose Change
Expenses:
Loans: N/A
Other Debts: N/A
Purpose of Loan Application:
LLC Formation, permission to take company public.

References: Prince Calebros Location: New York City, New York
Phone: 212-334-****

On the back of the application was a small yellow post-it note, with the following information:

Appointment Request:
Place: Yours
Requested Attendee: Executive
Date: Friday 8/28/2015
Time: Midnight
+44 (0)20-7661- ****

Edited by Paco Wilschire, Thursday, 13. August 2015, 15:28.
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Renard
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Two days letter a big envelope arrived back at Paco's postbox. It contained a photocopy of the papers that Paco had sent to Milbank. There were a few notes on them he couldn't quite make out, but there was a note attached to it.

Place of requested appointment confirmed: Millbank Tower, Offices of Domus Properties Ltd.
Attendee of requested appointment confirmed: Executive Officer of Domus Properties Ltd., Sir James Henderson
Confirmed date: Wednesday, August 26th 2015
Confirmed time: 10:30 pm


A hand-written note had been added
'Appointments are given out according to a fixed duration, please be on time. Keep your visit to the point and relevant and make sure to have your etiquette updated.

Thank you for making an appointment with Millbank Tower !'
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Paco Wilschire
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*
Millbank Tower was an impressive structure, a 118-metre high skyscraper in Westminster on the bank of the River Thames. It had been built in the 60’s, but still had a sleek more modern look to it. Even at a relatively late hour, there were always a few worker bee’s trying to climb the corporate ladder. This made it difficult for a man, such as Paco, to go through the usual entry and greetings most humans were used to. Years away from society made social gatherings a bit challenging, but he had always found ways to adapt to his surroundings. He would continue to do the same throughout his life, or un-life as it were.

Paco had decided to dress quite formally for the evening. He had on a comfort fit suit in virgin wool in grey. It had a solid color, lapel collar, long sleeves, three pockets, four internal pockets, and two buttons on the front. He had matched it with a blue striped tie. A grey fedora hat with a long wide brim rested on his bald head and was pushed forward to shadow his face. A light scarf was wrapped around his neck. Beneath the scarf his head was wrapped in a black ski mask. It provided a rather odd look, but if he didn’t walk to close to anyone he hoped he wouldn’t be singled out in the lobby area.

Being so close to rushing water caused additional problems, which included a rather significant case of dizziness that was not at all comforting. He was quite glad to enter the building before the appointed time. He always liked to be prompt. The only item in his possession was two vanilla folders with papers in them. He looked around upon entering, either to stop at the lobby if required, or to make his way to the elevators in the back and up to the floor of Domus properties. He would keep to etiquette, it seems the British were quite fond of it.
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