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 dangerous job (Open)
Topic Started: Monday, 23. May 2011, 10:28 (1,111 Views)
George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
After the visit of this shop George continued his patrol through the Anarch quarters, always looking for pursuers. Damn, this job could easily get him killed, but orders were orders. Patrol in enemy territory, what was that good for ? The frenchie had ordered it, true. But the frenchie was dust and he wasn´t. The question is who got the better deal. After a while he started walking a bit faster and began to control the narrow lanes and every trash can for bad surprises. Be careful, old man. You don´t know who you might encounter and which sect he belongs to, if any. Remember, what Mr. Wilson taught you: Everyone you don´t know in hostile territory is an enemy. Be prepared.
Languages: English, Welsh
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Renard
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Master Chief

"Everything all right, Sir ?" a voice suddenly said behind George's back. "I would hereby like to inform you that searching through litter boxes is not permitted and that you will be punished with a fine, should you decide to continue doing so, Sir."

As George turned around to face the origin of this voice, he saw a man standing about 10 metres away as if summoned out of thin air, eyeing him carefully with a piercing look from narrow, green eyes. He was small, pale and sleightly overweight, with a face that sleightly looked like a bulldog's except for the bushy moustache with the first streaks of grey in it. Additionally, the whole figure was clad in the uniform of a member of the Metropolitan Police.

"So, may I ask who you are and what exactly you are doing out here at this time of the day ?"

On his way home, Henderson had not failed to notice the figure obviously patrolling the area. He knew most of the anarchs, or what was left of them, but he did not know this man, so he had decided to inform himself. To avoid the man asking his own questions concerning his presence here, he had decided to use his powers to impersonate a Police Constable.
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
George looked at the man suspiciously. Why does a constable turns up here in the middle of the night ? Maybe this is a test... "Good evening, constable. Everything is alright, except that I lost a medallion which my daughter gave me. And just as a fact: there is lo law or regulation that prohibits searching through litter boxes and there hasn't been one in the time of my life. I'm George H. Harris and I'm also looking for unusual happenings here. Enfield Neighbourhood Patrol,"
Languages: English, Welsh
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Renard
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Master Chief

The Constable took out a small book and a pencil and started taking notes.

"Sir, just because there hasn't been a law concerning litter boxes for the last centuries doesn't mean that there won't be one for the centuries to come either. Due to vagrants, juveniles or other people decorating our streets with litter as well as mostly vagrants partly living out of litter boxes, the city council has decreed that doing anything else than throwing litter into a litter box or emptying it, should the one doing so be a city employee, is to be punished with a fine or with an overnight stay behind bars, should you continue although warned. If you are looking for a medallion, you should perhaps try the lost and found office in the city hall during the next days."

He stopped scribbling and looked at George for a while, then started again.

"Additionally, during the 26 years that I have been assigned to this neighborhood, there has been no 'Enfield Neighborhood Patrol, Sir. After all, this is what we have the Police Community Support Officers for, don't we ? What is more, looking for a medallion and patrolling the streets are two... let me call it quite exclusive things." The Constable's eyes narrowed, he looked slightly annoyed now. "I give you one last opportunity to tell me a better story or we can dicuss the matter at the next police station. Completely your choice, Mr. Harris."

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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
"Well, to be honest, I am a kind of Neighbourhood Patrol. Some people living here pay me for keeping Enfield free of burglars and other criminals. They don't have much trust in the Community Support Officers, as the Lord Mayor does not give them much budget, so they looked for people wanting to help them. And as I only get a small pension, I thought, why not helping them maintain the security of this borough ?"
Languages: English, Welsh
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Renard
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After a while, Henderson at least had a rough idea of who was standing there in front of him. He had seen this guy before, he just hadn't managed to remember... until now. This guy had been living in London for quite some time, after all. Had just kept a low profile.

"You moved to London in 1997, were allowed to settle in this town and live somewhere around here, don't you, Mr. Harris ? My apologies, I mistook you for someone else. How is business these days ?"
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
George raised an eyebrow. "May I ask, who you are, before I answer any more questions ? A policeman you are not. Let me guess: who you are is of no interest for me, right ? I demand to know where you did get this and the other, more specific information, that I think you have."
Languages: English, Welsh
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Renard
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Master Chief

"Sure, who wouldn't like to know things like this ?" During their whole conversation, he had not moved from the spot he was still standing in.

"Let me just assure you that I am a sort of policeman around this area. I belong to a group of individuals who gathers intelligence about this area and who are doing their best to keep the scum from the east there, at least for now. You might probably have guessed by now what group of individuals I am referring to, so simply answer truthfully when I ask you this: This is anarch territory, so whose side are you on ? Ours or the outsiders' ?"

Henderson decided to keep the mask up. He doubted that Mr. Harris had had the pleasure of having heard of him in a way that he could relate a face (or what was left of it) to the name, so he saw no use in using his name. Yet.

"I am, however, not a member of the metropolitan police, as you have correctly assumed. But once you get accustomed to uniforms, it's hard to drop the habit, isn't it ?"
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
Goerge looked at him menacingly. "So you are against the sabbat, eh ? Answer me a question instead: Anarch or one of us ? And the uniform part might just be you. I wore one for thirty years and can drop the habit quite easily. There is no kind of police around here, just me and I would know 'colleagues', don't you think ?"
Languages: English, Welsh
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Renard
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The man dressed as a constable started to smile.

"Beware of what you wish for, Mr. Harris ! You are neither on your side of the line nor in a position where back-up would arrive in time, should trouble arise. Now try to turn the tables and think about what this would mean concerning me. And claiming that you would know if there were others patrolling the area just underlines that you have no respect for others' domains or might I be mistaken ? In any case, I would like to advise you to watch your tone, Sir."

He put the book and the pencil back into his pocket.

"So what brings you into territories you do not belong into ?"
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
"A job I got from the Frenchie. Surveillance, if you know what I mean... And you still didn't answer my question of your allegiance, sir."
Languages: English, Welsh
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Renard
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"If 'frenchie' is your vocabulary of choice to refer to the late Mr. Lemort... I thought I had made my alignment clear or do I have to write it on a board and hit you over the head with it ? I am not very much into this blunt approach towards handling such matters. So try to think for yourself this one time in a while..."

The man's grin had faded a bit, but was still visible. He very clearly thought that he had the upper hand.
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
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"Listen up, whoever you are. I have a job to do and am not keen on attracting every enemy in Enfield, just because you want to argue with me, about what I do. If you were, what I thought, you knew my job and acted accordingly."
Languages: English, Welsh
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Renard
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"What exactly could that job be, Mr. Harris ? Mr. Lemort is dead and so are his orders, unless of course Mr. Chambers has revalidated them. Concerning attracting every enemy in Enfield, I think your 'I do not belong here and still insist on sniffing around' would have done the job all by itself, given enough time. What brings us to the most interesting point of all: What exactly do you think I would be, apart from a cititzen of Enfield ?"
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
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"What my job is, I already told you and the validity of my orders are none of your concern. And to your last question: Either an anarch or a Cammie, eh ?"
Languages: English, Welsh
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Renard
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"Either you're attracting those enemies also towards me or you have just met one who is just waiting for you to give him a reason to stick his foot way up ysour posterior, Sir. As you might imagine, it does concern me a lot. And please do not start this 'I'm just following orders' routine, it gets boring after a while."
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
"I guess you forgot the first military rule: Orders are to be followed, until new ones are given out. As this didn't happen yet, the old orders are still valid. I hope you are nt threatening me. i don't like being threatened and if you happen to know me, you know, what I can do to people threatening me, eh ?"
Languages: English, Welsh
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Renard
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Master Chief

"And accidentally you still could not manage to get new orders, so you are clinging to the old ones that happen to suit you better ? Very... convenient, isn't it ?"

Obviously, Mr Harris was pretending to be dumber than he was, so it was time to give him a broad hint about his situation.

"As a senior member of the community living here, I hereby declare your previous assignments void and order you to stop your 'patrols', unless you manage to get a valid permit signed by someone still alive in the figurative sense. The other option... is not recommendable."

He spoke and vanished before George's eyes.
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George Henry Harris
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Methuselah
* * * * * *
As a senior member of the community he declares my assignment void and orders me to stop patrolling ? He orders me to stop ? Who does this guy thinks, he is ? And of whom am I supposed to get a valid permit ? This Chambers ? He is too busy with getting his arse kissed by the primogen council, I bet. And the baron is dust.

Angered George finished his round and then got ready to leave this place.
Languages: English, Welsh
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Sullivan
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Ancilla
* * * *
"That's capes for ye."

The voice was like a musical rattling of gravel down a drain pipe, and it came from the sky. Then, before the eyes, a seemingly young man materialised as if he'd always been there, sitting up on the edge of one of the fire-escapes. His features, sharp and decorated with bristled stubble, were marred by the confusing combination of lingering frown-lines and a cheerful, upbeat grin. If nothing else, the mysterious Irishman was having fun even if nobody else was.

He abruptly stood up, the black serviceman's coat he wore swaying in the breeze as he continued, "It's in the way ye play chess with each other, I think. The powerplays and the feints, parry spin an' thrust - all that stuff. It's like watchin' a soap sometimes." Sullivan wasn't sure of himself enough to consider his position the strongest at the moment, but he was fully aware that if he hinted for even a second that was the case, this guy would try to eat him alive - not necessarily with words or threats, given both their natures.

Descending down the fire escape to street level at his own pace, Sullivan carefully considered his words behind the grinning mask he wore on his face - this encounter wasn't likely to bear fruit directly, but it didn't have to be a disaster. Plant sufficient amounts of the right thoughts, and in time he could still find an ally in this man. It was just a case of saying the right words the right way. "Personally, ye've got my admiration, lad. Putting up with the politicians night after night? Takes a patient man to do that willing. Me, I can't abide by the structure of the whole thing."

He leaned himself against one of the nearer walls, and gestured his hand towards the other man, obviously a cape who didn't agree with his own kind - as was so very often the case. "It's not the 'law and order is a vamp's friend' line that I don't like. I understand that. It's just a mystery why we can't all acknowledge that and then move on from this dark ages power structure where everyone who ain't a primogen's bitch is slave to some other opportunist. I mean, we're friggin' immortal - it's not as if we haven't got the time to figure out somethin' better, right?"
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