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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Halloween; Fantasy Short
Topic Started: Friday, 1. November 2013, 14:00 (249 Views)
Toran
Member Avatar
The Formerly Hated
* * * * * *
You shall not pass. You must know this.

He stood before them. His black eyes gleaming in the moonlight as he stood framed in the archway. They murmured, voices filled with hatred, despair and anguish. Something flickered in those eyes, compassion, and pity. But he stood firm. Tall and slender, like a lance, his silver garb flowing about him. His dark hands clasped about the shaft of his seventos, the sign of his station.

"You'll let us in or we'll tear your bloody 'ead off!"
The voice in the crowd was raw and angry. They surged forward, torches held high, crude weapons, broken table legs and farming tools clutched in calloused hands.

The man seemed to flow as he came down a step, the seventos whirling in his hands, the gleaming silver blades upon each end flashing, slicing through wood and metal with the same hissing whisper. The crowd gasped and tried to back away from him. A silver specter, a whirling figure of quiet power, asking them in the same soft voice, to give up their madness. But forward they pressed. Backing up a single step the dark man's face hardened, his seventos spinning faster, cutting into hands, feet, elbows and knees. Screams of pain filled the air, blood stained the stone steps, stained the silver figure's clothing. But it only made the crowd angrier fueled their hatred and fear. They pushed forward another step. Black eyes narrowing he stepped forward, driving into the crowd, his weapon whirling, spinning. Bodies began to fall, their life's blood flowing upon the stone. The mob roared... but now their voice cried out in terror. He was a ghost, gliding and slipping between them, their blows landing more often upon a fellow than upon his figure. His weapon opened their throats, pierced their hearts and broke their heads. He was death, he was the wind... he was beautiful.

I am sorry. Forgive me for what you have made me do.

His soft voice was wrenched in pain, but after a few moments everything was silent. The stones dripped crimson; still forms covered the stairs, but none higher than a single step up. He stood amongst them, crimson from head to toe. Lean and dark, his silver clothing, a mark of his station now soaked red. The seventos in his hands dripping. His black eyes reflect sadness as he carefully picks his way between them. Leaving them where they lay as he reclaims the arch. He rings a tiny bell set in an alcove, calling for the bearers.

Every Hallows Eve they come like this...to seek those they love through the Doorway of the Dead. Every Hallows Eve he man in silver asks them to go refuses them entrance... and ultimately grants them their desire, allowing them to join the ones they love.
Edited by Toran, Friday, 1. November 2013, 14:01.
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Toran's Voice

Can't leave... can't leave... can't leave the girls will eat me....
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