Vampire: The Masquerade ~ Berlin by Night

Welcome to Vampire the Masquerade: Berlin by Night. This is an RP that takes place in a dark and gritty modern setting, featuring vampires and many other supernatural beings.  Action, adventure, horror, intrigue, power struggles, and much more await. If you have little knowledge of the tabletop game that this RP will be loosely based off of, or even little knowledge of vampires in modern culture, worry not. All the information you need to play will be included below. Information about the VtM world and how it works is presented first, and afterwards the story of this RP is discussed. If you’re up for an adventure into a dark and exciting RP world, read on.






The world of Vampire: The Masquerade is a dark reflection of our own. The shadows loom longer here, and the night is more reluctant to yield to day. Corruption runs rampant, from the government through private corporations and into the various subcultures that revel in these culturally bankrupt times. It is a world of contrasts, of haves versus have-nots. It all looks very much like the real world, as seen through an extremely stylized filter that turns up the contrasts between dark and light. The technology is the same as ours right now, but the people who use it are different — darker, in personality and motive — and that changes how the world functions.

In this world, vampires exist, and they are very much an extension of the tarnished aesthetic that shapes the World of Darkness. Whatever their origins, or whatever they believe to be their origins, vampires are an outgrowth of the people who populate this desperate environment. Vampires exist in the World of Darkness because they are the monsters among us, the products of a world so dark that only something truly horrible and captivating can challenge the depths into which the living residents of the world have plunged it. In this setting, you will tell tales of morality and depravity, of redemption and damnation.

When you play Vampire, you enter this World of Darkness. Will you leave it a better place when your time is done? Or will you take the path so many others have, leaving more blight, ruin, and sorrow as your legacy?





A vampire is an immortal being that never ages or dies, but feeds upon the blood of the living. Monstrous beings of the night, they also exhibit various supernatural powers and abilities. In this RP you will play as one of these beings, your power always growing but your nightly existence never truly safe.


For vampires, cities are urban collections of territories and domains that stand as illuminated points against the greater backdrop of the wilderness and the places in between their safety. For vampires, the paradigm is almost medieval. The cities are their homes, and everything that’s not a city represents some sort of danger. Outside the city are packs of savage Lupines (werewolves), vast fallow areas where there is no blood to be found, and the unquantifiable strangenesses endemic to a World of Darkness.

Modern technology eases those dangers somewhat, but most vampires are effectively trapped in cities, where they gild their cages with elaborate games of prestige, social status, and vendetta. To that end, much of Vampire: The Masquerade takes place in urban environments. Why should vampires risk starvation in the untamed wild when those badlands confer no status upon their masters, and when a frenzied werewolf may well come rampaging across the landscape, leaving dismemberment in his wake? Truly, vampires are uniquely acclimated to city domains, and the cities are the places that hold the most of their most precious resource: blood. (Often called "vitae")


It has never been known for sure where vampires have come from, but there are many theories and beliefs held depending on who one speaks to. Many say that all vampires descended from Caine, who in some religious beliefs was cursed by God to wander the earth in eternal life. Regardless of whether this is true or not, it is believed that vampire-kind most likely descended from one progenitor of some kind.

With Caine being the "first generation" vampire, his children are referred to as the "second generation". The existence of Caine as well as a second generation is shrouded in mystery, and it is unknown exactly how much of this is true, or if Caine even existed at all.

However, the third generation, or "antediluvians" as they're called, are known for a fact to have existed. And these ancient antediluvians were said to be beings (or monsters, depending once again on who you speak to) of immense power. At some point however, all of the antediluvians were said to have disappeared, fallen into slumber and lay sleeping deep beneath the deep places of the earth to this day.

Some say the antediluvians still influence the world with their power while they sleep. Others believe the antediluvians are simply asleep and will stay that way forever; And another (but increasingly widespread) belief is that one day the antediluvians will rise from their sleep and wreak havoc upon the world, bringing about an apocalypse upon all of vampire-kind known as "Gehenna".

The real truth of any of this or of the antediluvians is unknown, even to the eldest vampires.




The process of becoming a vampire is widely-known as the "embrace". Newly-embraced mortals are often called "fledglings". Upon the Embrace, the fledgling’s senses sharpen, displaying to him or her a richness of visual colors, auditory distinction, tactile fineness, and olfactory alertness that mortals senses are too limited to discern. The most important of all, however is taste — taste becomes the new vampire’s primary sense, and with it he or she engages the pursuit of a single taste to the exclusion of all others: vitae. Mortal blood.

The mortal dies, and in his or her place rises a member of the undead, a vampire. With this unholy rebirth comes a host of new potential, from the mystical powers known as "Disciplines" that vampires possess to the quintessential vampiric ability to use blood for a variety of supernal purposes. Thereafter, nothing is the same for the fledgling. He or she is no longer mortal, but a new member of an elaborate society of the Damned, who have their own complicated codes of behavior, their own customs, and seemingly endless rules and protocols that dictate who is subservient to whom and under what circumstances.

Even for those who rebel against the system, a pecking order must exist. The only place it doesn't is when only one vampire claims the domain… and if that vampire just performed the Embrace, well, there’s no longer only one vampire there. The trappings of the fledgling’s mortal life can no longer support him or her. In the short term, the new vampire now requires blood to sustain itself, and surrounding oneself with vessels of sustenance whom one loves will inevitably result in bloody ruin.

In the long term, while the new vampire will remain deathless, unchanged by time, those around her will age, wither, and die. The easiest course, most sires (those who have given the embrace) agree, is simply to turn one’s back on the mortal life that no longer offers anything but tragedy and a reminder of the damned state of the undead.


The embrace is relatively simple. The sire must drink the childe-to-be's blood to the point of death or near death. (A vampire's bite is often referred to as "the kiss".) The sire must then feed its chosen childe some of his or her own blood. A single drop or more touching the future vampire's throat is sufficient. More on vampire society and various vampiric political views will be described in detail later, but at least a large portion of immortal society does not consider the embrace something to be given lightly.


Once a vampire is Embraced, his or her looks are frozen in time. His or her skin will be unnaturally cold to the touch and become paler as he or she ages, but he or she will look the same in a thousand years as on the night of his or her Embrace. However, his or her body does not work like it used to. As mentioned previously, nearly all vampires are unable to eat food after the Embrace, vomiting it up almost immediately — only blood will sustain them.

Over time, most of the vampire’s bodily fluids will be replaced by blood — the vampire sweats a thin sheen of blood when nervous, cries tears of blood when sad, and makes a god-awful mess during sex. Blood has other, unique uses for vampires. Besides needing it for sustenance, vampires can mentally direct the blood to various parts of their body, “spending” it to perform a variety of feats. They can heal themselves, mending scrapes, cuts, and slashes in moments.

One could also enhance his or her physical capabilities, making his or her self stronger, hardier, or more agile for a short period of time, and fuel the mystical powers at his or her command. Their blood can also create new vampires through the Embrace, and enslave the minds of mortals and even other immortals. Some vampires can also spend blood to appear human once again: make their skin rosy and warm, mimic breathing, and even allow her to have sex once again (although intercourse pales in comparison to the ecstasy of the Kiss).


When a mortal drinks of a vampire's blood three times, they become "bound" to that vampire in what is called a blood bond. Keeping a blood bond with a mortal for an extended period of time will allow the human to enjoy the benefits of eternal life, never aging, and even some weakened forms of their vampiric benefactor's powers/disciplines.

However, the blood bond itself is a severe addiction as well as a means of emotional and mental control over the one who drinks. Add to this the fact that if the mortal ever stops drinking the blood for an extended period of time, they'll lose all of its benefits as well as quickly age and die, and it's clear why ghouls are often permanent allies (in most cases servants) to vampires.

A vampire can also blood-bond another vampire if he or she is more powerful than the other, though only the control and emotional attachment aspect applies in this case, and not the sharing of powers or drinking addiction.


Of course, there’s a downside as well. Inside every vampire lurks an impassioned, hungry creature that is the opposite of the Man. It is the Beast, and the Beast knows only three activities: kill, feast, sleep. It is the roiling, inchoate desire every vampire feels to slay her prey rather than taking just enough. It is the inevitable urge to be what the vampire is — a predator who doesn't answer to the will of men or hide from their numbers.

When the Beast takes control over a vampire, she is said to enter a state of frenzy, directing the vampire into a response of fight or flight. But the Beast isn't a simple animal soul; it can be sophisticated. It knows that the war against the Man is one that, given time, it will inevitably win. Thus, in young vampires, the Beast is often a savvy creature, willing to take small victories here and there because in the long term, they lead the vampire down the path of greater degradation and subservience to the Beast.

Tonight the vampire destroys property, tomorrow she kills with reticence, the night after that she kills with relish. By the time the Man has eroded and the Beast holds sway, there is little rational consciousness left to the vampire in question. Kill, feast, sleep is all that remains in a vampire dominated entirely by her Beast. Immortal existence is a constant struggle with the beast, and extreme hunger or particularly intense emotions all carry the risk of triggering a frenzy.


A vampire's weaknesses heavily depend upon his or her clan. (Explained later.) There are also special cases where some vampires may develop a specific weakness that other vampires do not possess. Though vampires are diverse and cases vary, universal weaknesses that apply to all of vampire-kind are as follows:

Unless a vampire spends  a small amount of his or her blood each night, their skin will be cold to the touch and pale, and they will not have visible breath, even in cold weather! This can easily be noticed by intelligent humans and break the masquerade if caution is not taken.

Unless a vampire has points in the Animalism discipline, animals will act strangely and in a hostile fashion around him or her.

A wooden stake (or piece of wood roughly the size of a crossbow bolt or higher) penetrating the heart of a vampire will paralyze him or her, rendering the vampire completely helpless. There is never a moment of delay to this process or ability to resist this unless otherwise stated by an ability or situation.

The paralysis immediately ends when the stake or piece of wood is removed from the heart. Although paralysis itself is not fatal, being rendered into such a state usually means final death (the term for vampires meeting death for the second and final time) will be met shortly if in battle. Being rendered helpless makes being staked a real danger all vampires universally face.

Fire is a vampire's worst nightmare in most cases, and one of the worst weaknesses that all vampires share. Damaged caused by burning can take a very long time to heal, sometimes weeks if substantial, whereas damage from bashing or being cut can only take minutes with the use of blood. Being damaged by fire is something that you will always want to avoid, as it will often lead to final death. (Or being injured and crippled for weeks or months.)

Sunlight will destroy a vampire with no exceptions. Being in sunlight for longer than a few seconds will usually kill all but the most fortuitous of vampires, and will always badly burn one. Sunlight is considered to be one of the very few things worse than fire.

Killing a vampire by means other than fire, sunlight, or disintegration/incineration of some kind is possible, but a much more difficult endeavor. A vampire runs on blood entirely. If a vampire receives enough physical damage (and/or uses all of his or her blood trying to heal it) they will be incapacitated. A vampire is incapacitated when he or she has no more blood stored in his or her body, and receives significant physical damage.

When a vampire is incapacitated and bloodless, it can then be destroyed by decapitation or significant destruction beyond the point of the physical body being recognized. If a vampire is decapitated while having plenty of blood not while incapacitated, he or she is not guaranteed to meet final death.


On the note of blood, if a vampire is not damaged but runs out of blood, he or she will almost certainly enter frenzy until the hunger of the beast is satisfied. Even simply being low on blood means it takes great amounts of willpower to not frenzy.

Despite the temporary boost to strength and aggression, vampires nearly always do not want to frenzy. It can lead to animal-like and irrational behavior thus leading to death if facing clever opponents. And even in cases where danger is not present, the behavior of a frenzy usually involves breaking the Camarilla law of the masquerade (this is fully explained later) which will almost always lead to death.





The vampire who believes he’ll forever be the toughest motherfucker in the place just because he drinks blood and can’t die is in for a rude awakening. Thousands upon thousands of other vampires are competing with him for that top-dog status. Vampires are powerful creatures, certainly, but those powerful creatures have put in place hierarchies of their own, and none of them have “share my jealously hoarded power with some newly Embraced whelp” at the top of their agendas.

The elders have it all sewn up, it would seem. They claim domains that they have held for decades, if not centuries. The social hierarchies are often occupied by cagey vampires who didn't rise to the top by being companionable. The highest echelon of vampire authority in almost any city is a spider’s web of tenured intrigues, vicious rivalries, and outright hatreds that can boil over into physical violence and even Final Death.

Add to this the fact that these entrenched elders are masters of manipulation and misdirection, and many young vampires feel — not incorrectly — that they are pawns. They are moved in a game played by hoary old monsters, and their every movement may not even be their own.


A vampire's "clan" is his or her lineage, the vampiric “family” into which he or she was embraced. A vampire clan is often not a political faction or literal family so much as it is simply a "type" of vampire. A vampire's clan determines what sorts of powers (and often traits) he or she has. Vampire society generally acknowledges 13 Clans in present nights, though some may have been lost to history, some may exist in secrecy, and some may never have been known.

Some Clans are highly organized, while others are utterly decentralized. The only constant when speaking of Clans is that each has a unique ultimate progenitor, a set of mystical aptitudes or powers known as Disciplines, and a pervasive flaw/weakness. Although one's clan can often influence his or her development, ultimately every vampire is an individual and stereotypes are often broken.

The clans and more details on each will be provided later, most prominently in the character creation section. But if you're interested in a brief glance, below is a brief summary of each of the 13 recognized clans, or types of vampires.

(Click Here):

A "sect" is an artificial organization of vampires, usually composed of multiple Clans that form a league or compact. A sect is essentially a government, and holds unique political and social views towards the vampiric world as well s the mortal world. There are three sects in the world of Vampire: The Masquerade, though depending on who you speak to, one may not even legitimately acknowledge the others.

In most cases, one’s clan has immense influence on one’s Sect, but exceptions do occur. Some clans belong to no sect at all. Ultimately, it boils down to the ideology and the choices that the individual vampire makes that determines his or her sect, if one is chosen at all. Given the dangerous nature of this dark world and the ongoing war between Sects, often many vampires attempt to stay out of the sect struggles, though even more often they are forcefully dragged in.

The three sects in the world of VtM and in this RP are the Camarilla, the Sabbat, and the Anarchs. Each will be described in more detail below. However, before continuing, it is very important here and now that this is understood: There are absolutely no "good guys" in this world. Every sect has differing views, but ultimately all of vampire-kind is looking out for itself, more often than not in very malicious ways.

Of the 13 vampire clans, 7 "officially" (though as mentioned before there are always exceptions) consider themselves part of the Camarilla. 2 are officially known to be part of the Sabbat, whereas the remaining four clans are officially neutral. More details will be given below, where the three sects will be described in depth.








The Camarilla is also known as “The Ivory Tower,” and the Sect lives up to that moniker. Created in the 15th century, the Camarilla was formed to preserve and protect vampire society against the decimation brought on by the Inquisition as well as the power drain presented by the War of Princes during the Dark Ages. The leaders of the Camarilla ruthlessly enforced the Tradition of the "Masquerade" (keeping vampires' existence hidden from humanity), elevating it to the Sect’s highest law, a priority they continue to pursue even in modern nights today.

Calling themselves and vampires as a whole "Kindred", they seek to maintain a quiet harmony between vampires and humanity — a goal constantly threatened by one of the sect's enemies, the Sabbat. Regarding vampire society, The Camarilla considers itself to be vampire society, and there is some validity to their hubris. It is the largest Sect of Kindred, after all, and nearly any city on the globe likely has some Camarilla presence. A Kindred who walks into a new city and looks for the local vampire population will, more often than not, find a Camarilla court.

This expansiveness is partially due to the fact that the Camarilla says that any vampire, regardless of Clan or bloodline, may go to a Prince (the ruler of a city and/or large territory) and claim membership in the Camarilla. It’s also partially due to the fact that the Camarilla claims that all vampire society falls under its authority, regardless of what other vampires believe. Many Kindred find it easier (and less likely to get them killed) to sit in the shadow of the Ivory Tower than debate the point.

Beyond this powerful and far-reaching sect's claim to be the one and only government and authority for all of vampire-kind, the 7 clans who "officially" consider themselves supporters of the Camarilla are the Brujah, Gangrel, Malkavians, Nosferatu, Toreador, Tremere, and Ventrue.

Camarilla cities are not as cosmopolitan as the Sect asserts. While Kindred of any lineage can claim membership, most come from the seven founding Clans of the Camarilla mentioned above. These Clans helped to create the Camarilla, and they have a seat on the Inner Circle of the sect's workings. Vampires of other bloodlines and clans can attend conclave and meetings, but they are treated as minority voices or simply ignored.

After the Sabbat formed, the Camarilla opposed them as the only way to preserve and protect the Masquerade and its own Kindred. As the Sabbat threw away the Traditions and all pretenses of humanity due to their paranoia about Gehenna (mentioned above near the start of this thread), the Ivory Tower stood its ground and declared the Sabbat as enemies of the Sect. Since then, the Camarilla has been in an alternating cold and hot war, trading territories like two warring nations, and anyone who does not stand with the Camarilla against the Sabbat may be considered to be aiding the enemy. The "Ivory Tower" is ruthless, and anyone even simply accused of being affiliated with the Sabbat or any of sect's enemies is often targeted and harshly dealt with.

In short, the Camarilla is a vast and powerful vampire government. It created and very strictly (usually with severe punishment or death) enforces the masquerade and espouses itself as the only true authority and order "for all Kindred". At best it is seen as subtle and orderly, but at worst it is often seen as tyrannical and power-hungry, with Princes using younger vampires as pawns and absolutely no room for advancement ever being offered.





Prince: The ruler of a city and/or large territory. Holds absolute power in a city. By Camarilla law, any new vampires entering a city or domain/territory must present themselves to the prince. A prince often (but not always) has a "Primogen Council" underneath him or her. This council consists of one member of each Camarilla clan with a presence in the city, acting as a representative of each respective clan in that prince's city or territory.

Sheriff: The "right hand man" of the prince, the sheriff acts as a bodyguard as well as the prince's enforcer in a city. There is only one sheriff at any given time, and this individual kindred alone has the authority to supersede the primogen council or other laws to carry out the prince's will. Larger cities and territories may have a number of "scourges", these being sub-sheriffs that carry out the same enforcer duties but work underneath the sheriff.

Primogen: In most Camarilla cities/territories, the prince will have a council just underneath him consisting of primogens. One primogen is appointed from each clan in the city to act on that clan's behalf on the primogen council. Though it ultimately depends on the prince and the city, oftentimes only the 7 official Camarilla clans are given the privilege of a primogen on the prince's council. In some cases, some princes, particularly the more authoritarian or staunchly power-driven ones do not have a primogen council at all, seeing such advisers as only a potential threat to his or her authority.

Elder: The oldest of kindred society are often given more respect and voice in Camarilla matters, not only because of their age but because of the cunning and power they must wield to have reached such an age and still having their unlives.

Ancillae: Vampires with the rank of ancillae have lived long enough to be afforded some amount of respect and acknowledgement, though they are still entirely beneath the elders and well underneath the control of the Camarilla power structure.

Neonate: A neonate is an acknowledged vampire. No longer a fledgling nor the responsibility of their sire but also having yet to prove themselves as of being of any worth, neonates are the youngest and most common rank of Camarilla kindred. Many vampires do not survive past this age/rank.

Fledgling: One who is freshly-embraced their sire is considered a fledgling, and thus the responsibility of their sire, until the sire provides them with teachings of how the vampire world works -and above all else- the laws of the Camarilla. Until the fledgling has received ample instruction from their sire and has become a neonate, they are not considered a fully-acknowledged vampire and any detrimental actions they take are also blamed on the sire. Though one will always be the "childe" of the one who sired them, one is no longer a fledgling once they become a neonate. The process of becoming a neonate is usually no longer than two or three years, and sometimes much shorter depending on the sire.




The Camarilla strictly enforce their six traditions, the "laws of all Kindred" that they profess apply to all of vampire-kind without exception. Their most heavily-enforced law of all is the masquerade, or the practice of keeping vampire-kind a secret from humanity.


Above all else, the Camarilla ultimately command obedience to elders and adherence of all vampires to the six traditions at all times. This often unfair, oppressive, and power-mongering environment has led to more than one enemy slowly emerging to oppose the power and domination of the Ivory Tower...









Opposite the Camarilla stand the Sect of inhuman vampires known as the Sabbat. This Sect is as much a religion as it is a government. Most of the vampiric factions believe that the so-called “Sword of Caine” is a collection of mindless barbarians and ultraviolent fiends, or even demon worshippers bent on bringing Satan to earth. As such, the Sabbat are vilified all throughout vampire society.

They’re right to fear the Sabbat, but not for those fabricated reasons.

The Sabbat disagree with the Camarilla philosophy of hiding among mortals using the masquerade. While the “Kindred” (the Camarilla word for vampire, and a term the Sabbat despise) of the Ivory Tower cower among mortals and cling to outdated Traditions, the Sabbat prefer to indulge in their vampiric nature. They refuse to wear the tattered rags of humanity or to act as slaves and cattle to their elders.

Besides, vampires are clearly and openly superior to mortals — do humans lie down with cows and call them brother? As such, Sabbat vampires consider mortals to be tools and food at best, and have little tolerance for “Cainites” who pretend to be human. They are inherently alien and literally inhumane.

But the Sword of Caine isn’t just a collection of gorestreaked psychotics running around shopping malls with chainsaws. They reject humanity as a moral basis for their lives, so they have turned to other alternatives. They adhere to a wide variety of  philosophical tenets that force the Beast into a narrow channel and allow the Cainite to maintain a day-to-day existence that resembles stability (if not sanity). Further, the Sabbat not only rebel against morality, but also against their own inclinations towards solitude. They frequently join together into packs that act as one part religious cult, one part political faction, and one part combat unit.

Between moral devotion, pack loyalty, and the need to rebel, Sabbat cities are devoid of the calm, quiet society of the Camarilla court. Tensions are always high in Sabbat “dioceses,” and the Cainite’s surroundings often reflect their explosive natures. In cities controlled by Sabbat, murder, robberies, rape, and assault are commonplace. The Sword of Caine threatens every city it possesses, insinuating itself into urban landscapes until they become nothing but raw resources for the eternal crusade.

Although the Sabbat might not be any more “evil” than some of the elders of the Camarilla, they are certainly more overt with their acts of destruction and elaborate games of terror.

Any vampire not of the two clans "officially" supporting the Sabbat  (the Lasombra and the Tzimisce) are called "antitribu". For example, a Brujah clan vampire who is a member of the Sabbat would be called a "Brujah antitribu". Because of its inherent diversity, nature, and tensions, the Sabbat is hardly a unified entity, and the Sect is home to numerous factions of vampires united under the Sabbat’s banner.

The thread that truly holds the Sabbat together is a religious zeal to tear down the antediluvians. (Mentioned and discussed under the "Vampire Origins" section near the top of the thread.) When packs or ideologies threaten to explode into all-out civil war, the Sabbat manage to pull together around their common hatred for the Camarilla (who they view as puppets of the antediluvians). The entire Sect claims that Gehenna (the apocalypse) is coming, and that they must prepare for those end times when the antediluvians awake and destroy the world. When the time comes, the Sword of Caine will save the world, defeat the antediluvians and take their rightful places as the vampiric lords of the night.

And the Sabbat has proven to be a serious threat to the Camarilla. Neonates disgusted with staring at the same elders every night dangling power eternally out of their reach have openly joined the Sabbat. Every Prince grows increasingly terrified that one night the Sabbat will show up in his Elysium and murder him. Various cities that have stood as Camarilla strongholds for years are contested or have fallen into Sabbat control.

As the nights roll on, the Camarilla has been forced into harsh measures, killing vampires with known (or even suspected) Sabbat affiliation outright. Some Camarilla Kindred use this increasingly hard-line stance to help remove rivals or better themselves in the eyes of their sires, but for every Sabbat Cainite killed, more join their ranks.

Everything in the Sabbat points back to two key (and often conflicting) principles: freedom and loyalty. Their set of laws, the Code of Milan, reinforces these two points. Cainites are free to do what they wish, but they must always remain loyal to the Sword, because only the Sect can protect free vampires from manipulative elders, especially the Antediluvians.

Two of the most influential Clans of the Sect, the Lasombra and the Tzimisce, are believed to have destroyed their Antediluvian progenitors and devoured them, setting the example for the other Sabbat vampire Clans to follow.





Archbishop: The Sabbat counterpart to the Camarilla prince. An Archbishop controls an entire city and/or a large territory. The Archbishop acts as the guiding power for his or her domain and furthering the Sword of Caine's goals.

Bishop: Acting underneath an archbishop, bishops are often best described as generals or advisors. Larger Sabbat holdings/cities with particularly powerful Archbishops will often have larger numbers of bishops. A smaller Sabbat city's Archbishop may conversely have only one to three bishops serving underneath him or her. Oftentimes, when a Bishop oversees a successful invasion and overthrowing of an enemy city, her or she crowns themselves Archbishop of the new territory.

Templars and Paladins: These are the elite agents of the Sabbat, and are usually very powerful or dangerous vampires. Though of the same rank and though serve directly under bishops or archbishops, the specific purpose of a templar and a paladin differs slightly. A templar is most often a bodyguard or defensive agent, acting as a guardian for a bishop or something the bishop values. Paladins are offensive agents and enforcers, overseeing the loyalty and well-being of Sabbat packs lower in the command chain as well as infiltrating enemy cities and/or causing havoc upon the foes of the Sword of Caine. Paladins and Templars often carry a bishops orders to the packs they oversee.

Ductus and Pack Priests: A ductus is the head of a Sabbat pack, acting as a sergeant and leader. A pack priest usually attends to spiritual matters and morale, though depending on the pack sometimes a pack priest holds more leadership power than the ductus. The ductus and priests of Sabbat packs often answer to Templars or Paladins who provide them with orders on behalf of a bishop.

Pack Members: Called "brothers" and "sisters" by their fellow Sect members, pack members compose the majority of the Sabbat. These are the believers and soldiers of the Sword of Caine, and fight ferociously and mercilessly against the sect's enemies. Casting away their humanity, Sabbat packs are known for playing vicious, elaborate, and sadistic games with mortals. They also enjoy extending their "games" to hapless Camarilla victims as well. One such game involves driving by a Camarilla vampire and peppering them with bullets. As the bullets are normal, the vampire is largely unharmed save for the pain. The victim must then choose to break the masquerade by getting up and walking away, or being dragged off to a morgue and likely dying by the sun's rays. Needless to say, any outcome is very amusing for the Sabbat pack.

"Shovelheads": During times of war or when assaulting a Camarilla city, a favored tactic of the Sabbat is to mass-embrace huge amounts of mortal civilians, unleashing the starved, frenzying, freshly-sired vampires upon the city as cannon fodder in massive waves. New vampires who prove particularly vicious or successful and survive are often inducted into the Sabbat as pack members following the conclusion of battle. Most don't survive. Shovelheads get their name from the ritualistic process involved in their creation: The mass-embraced humans are struck violently across the face with a shovel before they are buried alive directly following their embrace, having to claw their way out of the dirt before being unleashed on the enemy.



The Sabbat believe in freedom from the tyranny of elders and the Camarilla (and their antediluvian puppeteers) at all costs. The sect also advocates loyalty to the pack and the Sword of Caine.

Click Here to View the Code of Milan:

The Sabbat will do whatever it takes to defeat their enemies, decrying the Camarilla elders as oppressive, weakly clinging to humanity, as well as servants of the antediluvians. The Sword of Caine fights the relentless crusade to destroy the Camarilla and prepare for Gehenna...







The Anarchs are not so much a sect as they are a refusal of the sects as they are now. A very loosely-affiliated group of vampires with differing views and goals, the only thing they share in common is a desire for changes in vampire society. Many anarchs still grudgingly remain in the power structure of the Camarilla, but desire to change it from the inside. Others are loners or hold ideals of their own. Aside from the three "anarch free states" established in California, they are a spread-out and sporadic group of vampires with varying views and goals.

What exactly needs to change? Ask twelve anarchs, and get thirteen different answers. All anarchs agree that change needs to happen, but they aren’t collectively committed to any particular plan. Common threads pop up, such as the redistribution of power from the elders to all vampires, and for political authority to be based on merit rather than age. Whether those changes come through passionate debate or guerrilla action against specific elders, however, depends on the Anarch in question.

Unlike the Sabbat who rebel because vampires should be superior, the Anarch Movement’s goals are at least nominally egalitarian.








Berlin, Germany. With the end of 1989, we have seen the end of the city as we know it. Following the end of World War II and throughout the cold war, the city was divided by a wall separating west and east.



But now the city and the nation is reunified, and the wall torn away. The mortals of Berlin are united. But the denizens of the city's nights are experiencing more disunity than ever. Berlin has always been a strong Camarilla-held domain both on the west and east side of the wall. Prince Gustav ruled his domain of East Berlin while the younger and slightly less-authoritarian Prince Willhelm held dominion over West Berlin.

With the wall down, the city is now in conflict, teetering on the edge of full-scale civil war. Prince Gustav, though old, strong, and competent, is also power-hungry. Shifting his view over the newly-opened border, Gustav seeks to expand his control to the west and seize power over all of Berlin and beyond.

The Ivory Tower has never particularly minded such readjustments of domain, but Wilhelm has not backed down. Being a former advisor to Gustav in years before the second world war, Wilhelm is weary of his old former associate. With the situation going nowhere and becoming increasingly tense, conflict is only just around the corner, and the Camarilla higher-ups are less than thrilled at the prospect of two of their own princes fighting each other for control of Berlin.

Meanwhile, in the shadows of the city nights, other forces are at work. There are rumors than an infamous Anarch-aligned criminal known simply by the name "Wally" has been spotted. There have also been whispers of Sabbat activity in the newly-divided city. And still other interests such as the four independent clans have begun to move into the area, as the impending war is a potentially profitable situation.

Chaos, intrigue, and conflict are inevitable. Who will you trust, if anyone? What side will choose, if one at all? What designs will you have on the fate of the city? What role will you play? Walk the dark and treacherous path of immortal existence as you traverse Berlin by Night.

This section is for character creation. It contains the template used for submissions as well as all the information you will need. Upon completion, characters should be submitted to Nivek via PM. The simple rules of the RP will also be listed here:

1. The overall forum rules apply here.

2. Please keep any and all OOC content out of this thread and in the OOC thread.

3. A non-GM player killing another player's character requires approval and/or consent.

4. Aside from the moderately-above-average-human abilities all vampires have, specific powers and what can be done with your disciplines are determined by the descriptions detailed further along in this section. Please don't deviate from what is possible with the number of points you have spent in a particular discipline.

5. If you have any questions at all, please feel free to contact Nivek or Dragus!





This is the character submission template. Appearance can be filled with a description, a reference image, or both. Regarding clans, in a section below I will provide the information on what starting disciplines they have available. I will also provide information on what vampire disciplines do at different power ratings.

Regarding sect, your character does not have to be loyal to a sect if you do not wish. You can join a sect at some point later in the story, or not at all if you prefer. Alternatively, you can begin play already being part of one. Berlin will contain elements of all three sects, though obviously as the story begins the city is very largely Camarilla-controlled, albeit divided between two princes.



User/Player Name:

Name:

Appearance:

Origin/Back-story:

Personality:

Clan:

Sect:

Disciplines:

Backgrounds:





Quick reference:  ~Starting points for new characters is 9~  ~Disciplines cannot be spent on past level 5 at new character creation~ ~Backgrounds never go past level 5 in this RP~ ~Everything starts at 0/5~



Choosing a sect (if you wish) is easy. It's a simple as looking at the beliefs and personality of your character and how he/she views the world of vampires and humans. However, clan is a much more complex decision. Your clan is not only what type of vampire you are and what types of powers you have available at the very start, but can also set the tempo of how characters will view you at first glance. (Whether clan stereotypes apply to your individual character or not!)

For a detailed look at each of the 13 vampire clans, please download the 20th Anniversary Book here. (Click) All of the sects and clans are discussed in detail (and alphabetical order) starting on page 45 and ending on page 81.




Please firstly note that from the PDF file, only "Disciplines" and "Backgrounds" will be used in this thread. All other aspects of the VtM tabletop game, such as dice rolls or any other parts of a character sheet from the game will not be used. As such, the only sections of the book relevant to this RP will be the sect/clan info, the disciplines info, and the backgrounds info. This will keep the RP simple, story-based, and also mean we will be using a much lower amount of points.

When creating a character, you are given a set amount of starting "points" you can spend. When creating your character, you will begin with 9 points to spend. These points are spent in the categories of disciplines (vampire powers) and the categories of backgrounds. The benefits and use of disciplines are obvious. Backgrounds on the other hand include things such as starting with allies, contacts, financial resources, havens (safe homes to sleep in during the day) and other useful things as well. For example, it's usually recommended to put at least one point into haven, as being homeless and having to scrounge for shelter from the sun each night is troublesome, and sleeping in the sewers can be dangerous...

Each individual discipline and background has levels you can spend points in. (All disciplines and backgrounds start at 0/5 by default, though disciplines can go beyond 5 later on.)  At character creation, a discipline or background is maxed out and can go no further when you have all five points in it. Backgrounds will never go past level 5 in this RP, and disciplines can not be higher than level 5 at character creation. At each point rating, a discipline or background offers different benefits. These benefits will be available to you described in detail using the instructions in the section below.

When dealing with disciplines, specific powers/abilities are retroactive; This means that a power you get at discipline level 1 does not go away when you add another point and go to level 2. You simply gain the new power at level 2 in addition to the one you gained at level 1.

As players will receive points throughout play very gradually and slowly as your character grows and develops over time, the benefits of putting many points in disciplines early is apparent. However, on the other hand, it should be noted that points can only be spent on backgrounds during character creation! Once play begins, you can only earn new levels in backgrounds through the story and through role-play. Therefore, there are ups and downs to both, and it's your choice how you wish to spend your points!

For example, a player with many discipline points is better in a direct fight, but may have trouble finding someone or having any connections to important people, or even meeting basic needs. On the other hand, a player with tons of points in money might be rich, but with no points in contacts, the character has absolutely no idea where to go to find the black market, and thus can't buy illegal weapons without the help of another player!

Ultimately, the dilemma of point choice falls to you. There is no wrong way to go, and challenges present great roleplaying opportunities. It's also important to remember that players will over long periods of time earn more points in the RP. Above all else, have fun!

When completing your profile, the sections for disciplines and backgrounds can simply be filled out by writing the name of the discipline or background and then the number of points you have spent in it in parenthesis.

Example discipline profile format:  Potence (2/5), Fortitude (1/5), Celerity (1/5). Be sure and keep the disciplines and backgrounds you've spent points in within their separate profile fields!





For what exactly each discipline does and what powers they grant at what point level of investment, please refer to the PDF linked above. Discipline descriptions begin on page 136.  (Please disregard any and all information about game rules aside from the descriptions of what the disciplines do. Anything in the gray boxes or having to do with dice rolls should be ignored!)

For backgrounds, refer to the section marked "Backgrounds" starting on page 118. Once again, ignore anything regarding dice rolls or tabletop game information other than the point/blip benefit descriptions. Also, please ignore the sections "Black Hand Membership", "Generation", and "Rituals". These three are not backgrounds or aspects featured in this RP.


On a final note: The three disciplines you may spend points in and enjoy the powers of at character creation are listed for each clan in the 20th anniversary book. (For example, the Brujah's clan disciplines are "Celerity", "Potence", and "Presence".) However, if there is a discipline you want that your chosen clan does not have by default, you may still be able to get it!

A few disciplines are available to any clan for a small extra point fee. If you want a non-clan discipline, simply spend two points for the first level in it. From there onward, it will act like your clan disciplines, costing one point per level. This can only be done with Auspex, Celerity, Dominate, Fortitude, and Potence. Any other disciplines are clan-only.

If you have any questions at all regarding your character, your disciplines and/or backgrounds, or anything else, please feel free to contact Dragus immediately! For simple profile updates or anything to do with the character profiles section, contact Nivek.

Have fun, and tread carefully as you traverse Berlin by Night.

Nivek's NPCs/plot PCs (TBA)





Username: Zectorman

Name: Maximilian Giovanni

Appearance: Well dressed; A green vest, white shirt. A black trench coat for when he goes out. And of course glasses.

Clan: Giovanni

Sect: Independent

Personality:  Cold, cold as his skin. Only during his feeding or his work do his eyes light up with a malign excitement. Calculating, always looking for a move to make, an opportunity to capitalize on. He has an aristocratic pompousness when around most, though he is able to put on a smile and a show when before people more powerful than himself.  He has a cruel humor, like many of his family he has his perverse demon he sates. In his hidden places he takes his pleasure in feeding on the living, the painful bight of the Giovanni not so much a curse for him as much as it is a pleasure all its own.  The screams taking him back to his days as a toddler, following his family behind the trench lines, scavenging the souls of the recently dead.  Blood, screams and pain, another day of work.


Background/History:
Born 1911, Maximilian Giovanni  was born during a time of turmoil and insanity. The First World War was his play ground as he followed his relatives on their battlefield scrounging and harvest. He had experienced the first Maelstrom of the 20th century caused by the sudden influx of bodies that the underworld had not seen before. Times where maddening for clan Giovanni and lucrative opportunities were abound. Whole regions were in a tossup, the opportunity to provide for the whole clan to take such a grand harvest of souls was enough to bring many to the fore front of the trenches. As a youth at the time he had his first grimoire shoved into his hands and told to read and learn every last word. Necromancy was in high demand for the clan now, every hand needed to take the souls of the recently departed that left a battlefield in droves.

Such was his upbringing he experienced, raised with the dead and the dead for relatives. Of course the dead relative’s portion was not known to him until right before the embrace but he always had his suspicions.  You do not get neck deep in the line of necromancy and not learn of the other horrible things of the night. He was not even 18 yet before he was given the proxy kiss, becoming a loyal ghoul to the family. This bookworm who always had a sort of hunch to his back, probably do in some part to his family’s muddled bloodline, had started to change. His back straightened, his demeanor became somewhat more confident, and his eyes which had always needed glasses became clearer. Though he keeps the glasses for posterity’s sake and he figures you do not just regain sight overnight.  The thin and frail turned into a rather pleasing young man, though at heart he was always entrapped in his studies. Balancing both medical and mystical, it was not long before he earned the title Doctor M.G.

The doctor of the body and the soul, a bright up and comer from which the clan saw great things;  and he was given the perfect opportunity. With the rise of fascism, it was not long before Dr. MG was thrust into a blue military uniform and shipped to Nazi Germany to use his skills. Of course before he left he was embraced into his clan proper, a new 11th generation vampire sent with very little knowledge on what it meant to be vampire. Of course he picked up his new unlife’s quirks quick, noticing that throughout his life he was being prepared for it.  He put his skills to the test, given seemingly limitless resources in which to practice his art in return he would feed the Nazis curiosity about the soul and the afterlife. Always in search of warrior spirits in which to implant their Übermensch with, MG still says that he gave them the idea to have children in the cemeteries of dead warriors. It was a dark joke that only he enjoyed.

The soul’s extracted, men feasted upon, and little to no interference. They feared him and the screams rising from his lab in Germany. It was all going so well for the 7 years he worked in obscurity, until the bombs started to fall and the screams were not from his subjects but from the soldiers outside. Before he knew it Germany proper was overrun by allies and soviets. When they found his not so well kept secret haven it would not be long before he was burned or strung out by the rabble. No escape and all would be put under the microscope. He had no choice but to send himself into the cold torpor. Putting himself into one of the many mass graves he kept, locked up tight into an iron container. His only hope, his only salvation was to wait until the right people found him, preferably any without guns or flamethrowers.

Lucky that exact thing happened as some of the many historians seeking answers to the many atrocities of the Nazi Regime happened upon one of his many grave sites, and came across his makeshift casket in 1983. It was the noise and movement caused by the excavators the eventually stirred him from his slumber. It was so nice of them to open his casket up and proffer themselves up as his first real food in decades. The tent filled with archeologists and researchers became a feast for the newly awakened monster. After he was finished he tossed their bodies in with the others in the graves and made away with their wallets and clothing. He made his way back to Venice and reintroduced himself to the family.

He found that all the potential and favor he had accumulated throughout the years was as quickly forgotten as his fate. The Second World War had unleashed another Maelstrom which had done away with any progress he had made; he was hardly worth anything anymore. His old home was filled with 13th generations and family members that hardly took a second look at him. He went from promising neonate to nothing. It did not take long for him to recover though, he was bright, capable and a vampire dammit. He reintroduced himself to his family, his medical arts and his necromancy.  He would reclaim what he had lost, power and respect. When the Endless Night came, he vowed he would be one of the largest contributors to its arrival.  He returned to Berlin, to find it broken up and filled with despair and rank with the souls of the lost; it was a perfect place to start anew. This is where it began for him and ended, he would begin anew in his former home. After a few years of paying the right people and dominating the right minds he had purchased the old building which used to be his old lab. On the surface it looks like the old rundown building it had been for decades. But he made his home in the deep dark hidden underground, where he reacquainted himself with his old tools and tomes. For once he felt like he was home.

He keeps to himself mostly, though with the Camarilla about he makes special concessions. Such as paying his respects to the East Berlin prince, offering his special services to most of the Kindred for the right price of course. He keeps out of the way of most of the rabble, and stays out of the sight of the government via a special friend he made in the Stazi, Erik, he pays a modest some and at other times dominates to keep him thinking that he is being paid a fair wage and treated kindly. Though this is just to suppress the suspicious noises that come creeping about when a random scream or a loud noise permeates the night air. MG spends his time capturing the lost souls but more importantly waiting for a chance to make a name for himself once again. He needed to regain favor; he needed the power he once wielded. Being able to have some control over Berlin meant he would have control over the veritable nexus of wandering souls left over from the wars. And with the wall coming down soon, an opportunity might just present itself…


Disciplines:
Necromancy Sepulcher path: 2 points
Dominate: 2 points
Background:
Domain: 1 point
Resources: 3
Allies: 1 (member of the Stazi)


Username: shadowlibris
Name: Dhani Price

Appearance: 5'3, athletic frame, dark brown hair cut short and slightly spiked, brown eyes, and light brown/beige skin. He as a round face and is frozen at the age of 20 but strangely looks as if he is only 17.

Origin/Back-story:Originally a starving artist from Cardiff, Wales. Born in 1892 to a welsh man and an unknown Indian woman who died while giving birth. He grew up without a mother and has always envied others because of this. At the age of 18, Dhani had relocated to London with close friend/girlfriend Alis Maddox, who like him him had lost a parent at a very young age. In 1912, on his 20th birthday, They were on their way home from an opera, they were attacked leaving Dhani brutally beaten to the brink of death with deep cuts along his stomach and waist. On the verge of dying, he was embraced by a man by the name of Jack Holtzman. To this day, he still holds some kind of grudge against him for not being able to "save" Alis as well. He as since lived in London, New York City, Chicago, and Boston for brief periods of time. In 1932, he decided to try life in Berlin only to end up torpored after a run-in with a vampire hunter. Now, he is awake and ready to play.

Personality: He is patient, easy-going and tries to judge everyone fairly. Tends to be vain and sometimes quickly angered. He loves to be loved and tactful persuasion, is well aware and willing to win others over to his way of thinking. Can be childish and prefers to avoid harsh situations or violence unless it is completely unavoidable.

Clan: Toreador (artiste)

Sect: Camarilla

Disciplines: Auspex (2/5), Celerity (1/5), Presence (1/5)

Resources: Haven (1/5), Allies (1/5), Contacts (1/5), Resources (2/5), Mentors (0/5), Retainers (0/5)





Name: Lea Quarda

Appearance: As a daughter of a Moroccan family that migrated to Germany shortly after WW2, she is the type of person that could pass as a tanned European on shorter days, or as a slightly lighter than most middle eastern person on long and sunny days. While rather plain after most beauty standards, her looks have a certain “moorish” charm to them, seeing how her family is descended from Arabs living in Muslim Spain, until the Spanish drove them out. However, usually the charm is lost due to plain, cheap clothes and the fact that she dyes her hair in a dark blue tone.


Origin/Back-story: As far as embraces go, Lea was the victim of the typical wrong time, wrong place scenario. At the age of 25, she was about to start her last semester at the university of Hamburg in History and English. Unfortunately for her, at that one last party before the end of the holidays, she ended up making friends with the wrong kind of people. Not that they had bad intentions, they just were people whose disappearance wouldn’t cause many questions to be asked. So when Lea, along with a number of runaways, possibly illegal immigrants, social pariahs, went to sleep off the big party in an abandoned building, it wasn’t really their fault that they didn’t know about the recent Sabbat activities in Hamburg. Nevertheless, all of them were knocked out and submitted to a mass embrace by various Sabbat members.
Soon after awaking into their new unlife, things went scary and disorienting rather quickly, what with the bunch of incredibly powerful monsters in human guises showing them around, keeping them from fleeing, beign given a pep talk about a new purpose in life and to stay the fuck away from sunlight.
And before anyone managed to question anything, they were already used as cannon fodder in a Sabbat attack on a Camarilla facility.
Headless and confused, it came as no supprise that the newly embraced meat shields were slaughtered, to quickly even for them to have made any difference once the real Sabbat force arrived. The only person it made a difference for was Lea, the only survivor of the meat shield assault, mainly because she took cover and hid early on. Before the Camarilla soldiers could find her, the true Sabbat soldiers arrived, which gave her the chance to run away in terror.
After making it out alive, she kept running. First to her student dorm, where she took all the hard cash she had, packed a bag filled with three sets of clothes (jackets with long sleeves and hoods, as well as gloves, a sleeping bag, a toothbrush, and the Jordanian dagger she had inherited from her father. Finally, she emptied her bank account.
For, while her understanding about what had happened was drastically limited, she understood the most important parts. Human looking monsters had kidnapped her, and sent her to fight other monsters. She was most likely not supposed to have survived at all. She wa snow also proud owner of fangs. Meaning she had been turned into a monster as well. She also came to the conclusion, if there were monsters in human form who fought each other involving humans like her and she had never heard of it before, those monsters would have to be good hiding their existence. Which most likely placed her, as well as anyone she knew, into danger. And as much as she hated the thought of possibly never seeing her parents again and not giving any closure, she’d hate it more to see them killed.
After many discomforts and close calls, she managed to board a night train to Berlin. She reasoned that a city as big as the capitol, just recently reunited on top, would be big enough for her to vanish. And that those monsters would not be here because it was a capitol. That particular reasoning was due to her panic and grasping at straws in regard to hope.
Aside from all the major problems she is now facing, there is a big one she doesn’t know about yet. Her sire was a Sabbat pack leader who was overseeing the mass embracing Lea fell victim to, and originally hadn’t even intended to sire someone of her own, as to not besmirch the proud Lasombra clan with worthless kine waste whose only purpose was to die for a cause they would never understand. Her decision to embrace Lea was spur of the moment, simply because, as a vampire embraced in Muslim Spain, Lea’s features reminded her of someone. So she chose to be the one to embrace her and then see how it would go.
The fact that Lea survived the suicide attack impressed and further intrigued her. Seeking some amusement, she has watched her fledgling. After seeing that Lea was apparently smart enough to stay out of the sun and not expose herself to the mortal rabble, she let her leave for Berlin. At the moment she is still busy salvaging what is left to save in Hamburg, but once she has wrapped that up, which should be soon, she’ll go after Lea. Should the neonate have survived till then, the Lasombra named Lina will deem it worthy to try and make a proper Sabbat kindred of her fledgling. And woe to her if she disappoints…

Personality: Lea is a person who hates inaction. She is usually the first one to speak or step forward whenever a problem arrives that has an obvious solution, but no one is willing to be the one to do it. As the child of two teachers, Lea believes in the merits of authority and discipline, not blaming the establishment for everything, and to just do the things you have to do.
Despite this proactive lookout, she is socially rather awkward. While she knows how to entertain in a conversation, she often simply doesn’t have the commitment it takes to form long-lasting and deep friendships, so usually she doesn’t bother actually talking to people.

Clan: Lasombra

Sect: None

Disciplines: Obtenebration 2, Potence 2, Dominate1

Backgrounds: ninth generation




User/Player Name: Dragus

Name: Drakon

Appearance: Its appearance varies depending upon purpose, location, and circumstance. Modifying its appearance often and with alarming speed, when not in the safety of its haven it is rarely seen with the same face. Its self-proclaimed "true" form is almost never seen, at least by those who still live to speak of it afterwards. This rarely-seen true appearance is said to appear inhuman, sleek, and deadly. It is rumored to have a black complexion with a hard, carapace-like skin as well as deep eyes of crimson.

Origin/Back-story: Referring to itself as "Drakon", this vampire has clearly cast away the vestiges of any mortal existence it may have had. It also has denied classification into gender, simply referring to itself as "it" rather than he or she. Of course, aside from its name, most of these are facts that would not be shared with anyone in most cases.

The purpose of Drakon's recent move into the Berlin area is unknown, but what is clear is that  he (or "it", if the vampire or another who has spent any length of time around it has a say) has come from the eastern part of Europe. His speaking mannerisms carry an accent indicating an origin of Russian, Romanian, or otherwise slavic descent.

Personality: Drakon's true personality, when not donning a disguise of flesh or emulating another, is one of polite demeanor and sophistication. Beneath this polite face however is clearly a being that is inhuman. The rare times when one is invited to his haven, the guest is treated with great courtesy and manners.

A manipulative and inhuman being, yet strangely ornate and well-mannered, this monster's true intentions are never easy to place. His personality's "quirks" include taking the old world Tzmisce concept of haven and invitations execessively seriously. Entering his domain uninvited meets with disasterous and usually fatal results.

Drakon's hobbies and interests aside from his self-preservation and perfection include the sciences (both biological and medicinal) as well as the occult and arcane. The latter mostly applies to the koldunic rituals from the old world, as well studies of supernatural beings in general.

Clan: Tzimisce

Sect: No officially-known affiliation.

Disciplines: Vicissitude (5/5), Auspex (2/5)

Backgrounds: Retainers (1/5), Resources (1/5)

Retainer Profile (Click to View):

User Name: Emrys

Name: Leo Weisel

Appearance: Leo is a average sized man, healthy, and in shape. His hair is a dark brown that almost looks black and his eyes are a bright blue. He is plainly dressed due to his limited wardrobe but nevertheless will often be seen wearing a brown overcoat atop a t shirt and wrinkled khaki pants.

Origin: Born in Warsaw in the year 1954, Leopold Weisel lived in a poor home with his mother and father who only one year prior had moved back to their homeland after fleeing the Second World War. Growing up was a hard life there in the Warsaw's dirty streets and hope was a rare commodity that was reserved for the insane and the wealthy. The young Leo found this statement to not be entirely true. A young and bright eyed Priest at the local church constantly professed that the love of the lord would suffice in any situation and that through repentence of sin the people might be granted eternal life. This hope inspired the boy to become a priest such as this man, to live a life of hope and gain inner peace.

Fervently he strove to become what he knew was his destiny, to become a beacon of light and hope to the world. Eventually his studies led him to become a leader of a small parish in the town of Karczew. It was there his life changed forever. During his morning devotions,Weisel heard the muffled sound of a scream. Rushing to investigate,he found the body of a woman being drained of its life essence by a hideous monstrosity. It seemed to have been female at one point, yet the glowing eyes and bestial claws spoke of a far more dubious nature. A rightous anger came over Leo at that moment. A holy fervor and mission in the form of an angelic vision. He now knew that the powers of hell were at play in the world. He now knew with clarity that they were an affront to humanity. He knew that he was now responsible to protect his flock and unleash God's holy vengeance upon this creature and all of its ilk.

To the frenzied Gangrel's surprise, the mere mortal man, armed with his faith and conviction alone, charged forward knocking down the beast off of the raised platformand onto a unused candelabra. The force of the strike drove the vampire onto the wooden decoration and pierced it through its heart. Paralyzed, the creature was mercilessly beaten and aragged outside. The blows did little but the morning sun had dramatic effects. It was this day that Leopold Weisel was shoved into this world of darkness.

Not a year had passed and the young Parish leader resigned his post to seek some meaning ine world. Or so his congregation believed. In all reality, his run in with the undead shoved him into the world of the Malleus Maleficarum, a holy order that knew of the terrors that await. He found his place as a warrior of vengeance striking out at every oportunity he could get. He may have slain vampires, but he has yet to encounter one who had lived past a year. Fledglings that underestimate humans are the only enemy he has faced. Zealously has Leo fought and protected the interests of Christendom and as a reward he has gained a large and influential parish in Berlin and has become a friend of a canditade for election as mayor, who happens to be a member of his church. He hasn't given up on his cause against the undead, but his focus has turned to his flock for the time being. An ever present vigil remains as always.

Personality: To those in his flock or friends Leo is a warm nd compassionate soul, often putting their needs before his own.To those outside the faith he can be cold and abraisive. Dogmatic and orthodox as they come, Leo strives to live out every tennant of God's word to the letter. Anything else is unacceptable.

Race: Mortal

Conspiricy Malleus Maleficarum

Edges: Vengeance 5/5

Backgrounds Domain 2/5, Influence 1/5, Ally 1/5

Maximilian walked out of the home of the former Stasi officer in the dead of night. Black trench coat covering his green velvet clothing and a black fedora to top it off. His Italian leather boots one of the few sources of noise as he padded down the concrete streets. He turned his head to look back at the building he had just left for a few seconds before turning back. Needed to be careful, always needed to be careful; if someone found out about his dealings, mortal or worse a fellow kindred, with his mortal they might use that against him.

Of the very few members left of the former state police, one was his good friend Erik Kaufmann, who just received another healthy dose of domination and money. Keeping with good old Giovanni tradition, M.G. used his wealth to keep the dogs at bay. His brilliance realizing quickly the necessity of having a well connected former spy in the pocket when he had arrived in the city some years back. Of course money did not solve everything, and he always had restless associates to keep tabs on Erik and others of note. Sometimes the domination did not take or the money was not enough to stave the curiosity mortals had an annoying knack of having about shady people like M.G. His profession required obscurity, did not need police or other mortals coming around his place of rest investigating the strange noises coming from there. Or it could be worse than that, this was a Camarilla city after all, a Nosferatu Cagóne could be skulking about trying to divulge my secrets. He has had the exterminators come by at last 4 times a year to make sure no rat pests could be feeding their sewer mates any information.

Call him paranoid, call him unhinged, but make no mistake he was careful. In a city filled with monsters to be alone was suicidal, but if you were smart you could convince the proud Venture lion to let you into his territory and like a Hyena take what you need. M.G. had only been in the city for a short amount of time but he had already made himself comfortable, taking refuge in an old underground lab that was his back in the war. On the surface it was a nothing more than a rundown office space; but underground was a space twice the seize width wise. When he had returned to it after all these years he could swear he could smell the last subject he had eaten; taking a particular delight in finding his tools, rusted over the long years, still hung in their place. He did not bother to clean them though, he never did, his subjects were honored in their own way with their blood mixing and merging in his own interpretation of art.. It took some time but he turned half of the underground complex into a nice comfortable living space, carpets covering the floor except in his "workspace' and particular spaces of blood splatter that he found pleasing, reminding him of good times. To work in the comfort of ones home, was that not the modern dream?

M.G. continued to make his way towards home, though he entertained the thought of bringing home some desperate kine home for "examination". In the last few years he had taken great pleasure as poseing as a doctor, his medical knowledge wowing the would be prey, luring them to his "clinic". There never was a shortage of desperate people under their repressive government regime, though times were yet again changing with the wall coming down. People were hopeful once more, it was quite annoying and a tad bit more difficult to pull of his little charade. Not to mention their were rumors beginning to spread about the "Grüne Augen Teufel". The game had changed, new players were on the board. Berlin was unified and that meant the veil of the Masquerade, at least for this city, had just doubled. True that meant more walking space and victims, but it also meant double the kindred.

He continued to walk towards home, only a few blocks away. He never liked traveling too far from his domain, never knew when some Brujah Bastardo might think to pay him a beating for being "So fucking creepy" as they would put it.

Dhani roamed the streets thinking to remember the location of his domain. Did he obtain one for Berlin, how long has he been here? All he knows is that is thirst is in overdrive and can barely remember how to get home. He mumbled to himself as he walked. "How long has it been since I went to sleep? Hell, was I even asleep?" "Aah, where's the damn blood bank? Man, I am so thirsty I could feed from a human right now?"

After wandering for what felt like hours, he was finally able to find his now abandoned domain. "Ha, I see time has not be kind to my place of residence like it has with my appearance. No matter, I shall have it back in its original shape in a matter of days. I just hope the blood I have stashed here is still good or I'm going to have to go hunting."

He ascended the stairs, kicking down the door and running a hand through his hair. "It feels good to be home again."

Berlin by night. This was a city that had in the world of mortals been divided for decades. But in the world beyond the scurrying of mortals, the city's order had been well-established. Now, ironically enough, the city reunited by day had become a divided powder keg by night. In the eyes of those who resided here, one domain could simply not have two princes.

The sun had recently set. As night fell over Berlin, with impeccable timing a truck made its way into the city from the east. When night had fallen entirely and no trace of sunlight remained, the rugged-looking man driving the vehicle came a stop, pulling over in an area directly in the shadow of a large warehouse. Turning and removing the key in the vehicle, its motor fell silent.

Stepping away from the truck in the dark, some quiet shuffling was heard. The man named Ivan seemed to have no trouble seeing as he removed the cover from his vehicle's back, a few moments later the sound of a large wooden box being pried open audible. A second figure rose, stepping silently out of the bed of truck. Both figures wore large black coats, but the second and taller who had come from the truck also wore a narrow hat, his collar high and concealing much of his features. Those features that were visible were pale, smooth, and held a strange flawlessness in complexion.


The first and rough-looking man stood quietly, seeming to patiently wait for something as the second silently looked among his surroundings in the dark for a few moments. After a short time had passed, the second figure, who unlike the first was not a man at all, spoke a single sentence in well-spoken Russian. "Stay with the truck, Ivan."

Giving a single nod, the rough-looking man remained standing near the truck as the other began to make his way away from the warehouse. With his hands in his coat pockets, Drakon walked at a brisk pace for several minutes. As he made his way from the empty lot surrounding the warehouse, he inwardly expended a small amount of blood. Some manner of color, though not a huge amount, came to his smooth cheeks, and the faint fog of warm breath came from his lips. This being was never one to take any risks or accept any imperfections when in the guise of a human.

After some time had passed, the man in the hat and coat had reached the populated areas of eastern Berlin proper, and promptly slowed his pace, briefly pausing on a street corner. The first order of business, especially in a city such as this, would be to discern the location of the domain's ruler. The fifth tradition of the Camarilla briefly passed through his thoughts.

When thou comest to a foreign city, thou shall present thyself to the one who ruleth there. Without the word of acceptance, thou art nothing.

Drakon bore no particular respect for the Camarilla or their would-be form of rule over all of immortal-kind. But when in a Camarilla-controlled city like Berlin, heeding their laws and traditions as well as making a good first impression would be a necessity. He would, one way or another, discern the location of and present himself to east Berlin's prince, as per required by law.

With a small, hardly-noticeable glow of red coming from his features that could easily be mistaken for the lighting of a cigarette, the silent newcomer activated his power of Auspex. His eyes scanned the streets of the city, peering over the small sea of hundreds of auras. Were there a ghoul or a vampire anywhere in sight, their aura would stand out like a candle in the dark.

On some nights, life really seemed to hate you.

Granted, as far as Lea was concerned, life had hated her for the last two weeks now. Didn’t mean she liked getting used to it, tough.

Admittedly, the current situation wasn’t really comparable to the sheer level of suck that had been the night when it all begun. That night had included people with monster masks as faces and inhuman strength kidnapping her and a bunch of other people she had just meet. Doing… something to her, that bizarrely had caused a weird pleasure of pain and ecstasy, which would probably would have been quite enjoyable if it wasn’t for the pants-wetting fear she felt back then.

And then the monster faces send them all to some place where people had normal faces, but the same inhuman powers, and the rest was a bloody slaughter.

After that, things had improved, but only in the sense that she wasn’t in mortal peril anymore (as far as she knew/hoped), but all of a sudden being on the lam without actually knowing what she was hiding from, yeah, no exactly the direction she had planned for her life.

On the positive side of things, at the very least she was making progress (question being to what end). After days of hiding, running, panicking, scheming, fearing, sleeping in very dirty places tucked deep into her sleeping back to avoid the sun at all costs, she had finally managed to buy a ticket for and board a night train to Berlin.

Which brought her to the momentary suckiness. The train she had taken didn’t leave as early as she would have liked, and after she arrived, it took some time getting to Kreuzberg, even more to find a hostel. Specifically, a hostel with a Turkish person behind the counter. Ironically, the main reason she had chosen Kreuzberg as her destination was all the talk she heard about neo-Nazis induced riots against the immigrant population. While she saw herself as a native, given her skin colour it would be easy to pose as someone who had just arrived in Germany (happened often enough that people thought that of her anyway), the riots had surely crated enough chaos to make keeping a low profile easier, and conflict tended to drive people together.

Naturally, expectations only got you so far, and just when she thought she had managed to book a room for the night with no problems, the guy behind the counter remembered to ask for her ID.
As in the same ID she burned shortly after packing up all her things. Perhaps that had been a bit rash, but hey, she had been in a panic (still was, actually). To her frustration, she still hadn’t come up with a good excuse for why she shouldn’t have to show her ID. The old “my dog ate it” excuse probably wouldn’t get her far, and originally she had planned to think of some sob story about how she had to flee her home country for a variety of reasons, and was on the run from Nazis, and all that. However, while she looked the part, and was comparably well versed in oriental history, she was still born in Germany. She spoke like ten words Arabic, had a German accent, and simply didn’t know enough about the CURRENT situation in turkey or Palestine or else to withstand even the most basic of questioning about where she’d be supposed to come from. This incompetence on her part made her so angry at herself, she just wanted to …

“Hiss…”

Shell shocked, Lea immediately slapped one hand over her mouth.
Had she just tried to bare her teeth and hiss at the guy? She had! Why!? Why would she want to do that. Not ony would it make her look like a weirdo who needed a straightjacket, it would also expose her fangs. Damn, just because she had biters like a cat didn’t mean she had to act like a cat!
Or did it? Could it be that whatever had happened to her was not only changing her physically, but also mentally? How far did that go? Would she howl at the moon or something? She didn’t want to howl at the moon!

While Lea, her hand still clapped firmly over her open mouth, eyes wide, was silently freaking out, the hostel clerk was naturally concerned and kept asking if she was feeling alright. And if he should call an ambulance.

Her current freak-out, coupled with the fact that an ambulance and more ID questions was the last thing she needed right now, plus the dread about the sun being about to rise soon, and how it would be really hard to find a safe place to sleep now if she didn’t pull this of, all of that was naturally grating on her nerves even more, so finally she snapped and angrily yelled at the clerk to:

“SHUT UP!!”

…

And he did. His body stiffening, the guys mouth snapped shut, and he gazed sleepily into nothing.
Lea blinked. What the hell? This new weirdness actually got her out of her panic attack.
So, did she do that? If yes, how? What did fangs and hissing have to do with… mind control, she guessed.

Also, how was she to snap the clerk out of whatever she had done. Cautiously, she moved her arm to wave a hand in front of his face. Fortunately, that did the trick, he shook his head, looked a bit disoriented for a while, then scratched the back of his head in embarrassment and said:
“Sorry, don’t know what happened there. Must have dazed of, these night shifts are a killer, I tell you. Anyway, you were just about to show me your ID card, right?”

Back to square one, but perhaps...
“Actually, you don’t need to see my ID to give me the room key.” She said politely.

The clerk just gave her a questioning look.
“Eh, no, I most definitely do need to see it. Rules are rules.

Lea sighed. Now what? Was she supposed to wave her hand like in Star Wars, all “Those are not the ID cards you are looking for”? She would totally do that, if it would help, sun breathing down her neck and all. If only she knew how all this fangy monster stuff actually worked!

Alright, she would try the mind control one more time, and if that didn’t work she’d better go before he called the loony bin. Leaning forward with her hands on the counter, fixating the clerks eyes with the most intensive stare she could muster, she said with authority:
“In order for you to give me the key to the room I just paid for, and that I’ll be returning to you in a day, it is absolutely unnecessary for you to see my ID card, don’t you AGREE?”

“Certainly.” Was all he said, while obediently handing her the keys.

Unwilling to press her luck, Lea simply nodded her head thanks, took the key, and then left for her room.

The night was cold, as one would expect of winter in Berlin. However this did not stop Mortals form moving around at nearly all hours of the night. Though some places remained deserted you could always find someone around the main streets, late night workers, what passed for the police, gangmebers, drug dealers and drunks. Though that was only the Mortals at work. What made up a larger portion of the movement at night was that of the Vampires. With the wall coming down things have been getting more interesting by the night. This night would prove to be the start of the most interesting, and possibly deadly, month yet.

Outside the "clinic" a man waited in worn but still well made cloths, all except for the tattered hood of his jacket he had pulled over his head, possibly to stave off the cold wind. He waited for the "doctor" to arive, he would have words for him when he arived, as his mission had been given to him.

Spoiler:

As Dhani entered his old Haven he was met with a strange image. A large black dog, like a great dane, stood at the center of the old room. At the dog's feet was a small red cooler. The dog sat motionless for a long moment, just staring at Dhani.


In the vast sea of auras that he had been looking through, one stood out beyond all the rest. Like a great bonfire. It came from a man with long red hair, tied back at the nape of his neck into a long tail. He wore a well made green suit and was sitting at what looked like the out door section of a cafe, one of the only above avarage looking shops in this hole side of town. The man seemed to be sipping a drink of some kind out of a tea cup. The moment he was seen he waved, looking directly are the one looking at him. He motioned for him to come over and have a seat.


The night outside the hotel room passed quietly. Little noise could be heard, and this it self seemed odd. No late night drunk returning to their rooms, no children waking in the night, no sounds of the cleaning staff though there was not much night left. What was strange is that this eerie silence continued through out the day. Though Lea would be hard pressed to notice this while she rested. However, right as the sun set a sound echoed through the halls. In the strange silence it had sounded nearly deafening, though it had only been a simple knock. On her door.

The Tzimisce's auspex after a short time laying itself upon an aura distinctly not human, he made his way quietly towards the cafe table. Greeted with a wave by what appeared to be a red-haired cainite a green suit, the tall smooth-faced one allowed his hands to slip from his trenchcoat's pockets as he arrived at the table. Having a seat as indicated, his posture was nonchalant and to any passers-by it would appear as if he were sitting down to speak to a long-known friend.

This fleshy human form's fair-complected features smooth and its eyes strangely serene, it had been an appealing choice for moving in public. His view calmly meeting that of the green-suited one, Drakon stated a brief greeting in his heavy eastern european accent. "Good evening."

Lea cursed mentally as she struggled to dig herself out of the sleeping back without damaging it. Stupid new fangy monster strength. And stupid knocker, she hated being rushed with waking up.

Actually, whoever was disturbing her was damn lucky that she had actually heard it. The last time she slept in a hostel (that time, the clerk had forgotten to ask for ID), she had slept in the windowless bathroom. Damn, had that bathtub been a literal pain in the neck. Fortunately, this room had shutters. And after sleeping on nothing but hard and dirty surfaces for a week, oh boy did she rest heavenly on that bed!

Once she had freed herself from the sleeping bag, she called out:
“Wait, I have to get decent!”

Which was a lie naturally, like every night she had slept in her clothes. But for now she needed time to contemplate if she should answer the door or simply jump out of the window. Assuming that…
Indeed, after she carefully pulled open the shutters, she saw that it was night-time indeed. Right then, escape route A prepared.

Of course, there were a variety of reasons for why someone might knock at her door, and only a few of them involved fangy monsters. In the likely case of a normal human knocking, running off like that could in the worst case only draw unnecessary attention.

Well, caution was the mother of the porcelain box. She quickly took her twenty inch dagger out of her bag, carefully unsheathing it. She then laid the sheath back into the back and closed it, laying it down on the bed so that if she were to bolt from the door to the window, she could easily grab it on the way.

Treading carefully to not give her position away, she pressed her back against the wall next to the door, holding the dagger in a reverse grip and ready to strike at or parry anything that might forcefully enter the room. Feigning unsuspecting friendliness, she called out:
“Alright, I’m presentable. But before I open the door, may I ask who it is?”

Dhani passed through the threshold of his old haven and scan the old room that was once his living room til his gaze met the dog and the small red cooler at its feet. He began to scratch and let his thoughts wonder while locked in a staring match with the dog.

Well this is weird. Did I have a dog? And if it isn't mine, then whose dog is it and why is it in my house? More importantly, what is with the cooler? IS SOMEONE TRYING TO STEAL MY STASH OF BLOOD"

He crouched down and got a bit closer to the dog. "Hi there doggy. How did you get in here? Are you lost or hungry?" Are you wanting on someone?" I hope this dog isn't waiting on someone and if it is I hope that someone is not a hunter. I don't need another run-in with them, i would rather risk my chances with a mage than a hunter.

Maximilian was closed to home, only down the block he could see the outline of his rundown building of a Haven. He smiled to himself, the jagged Giovanni fagged protruding slightly. He enjoyed the obscure comfort of his haven, the cold quiet that pervaded the entirety of it. Most motrals with common sense avoided the place out of the inborn animal sense to stay out of the realm of the predator. Of course that could not be said for all, their seemed to be one or two kids that painted themselves rebels or the desperate homeless man looking for a place to stay out of the wind. Such people go missing not to long after their stay, thus adding to the myth and horror of the place. He loved knowing he was responsible for such myths and horror stories.

But as always, maybe it was due to the breaking of the wall, some people had not gotten the message. A lone stranger squatted outside of his domain, a death sentence for mortals and in many cases kindred who enter uninvited. M.G.'s smile only widened though, it would seem he did not have to go out too far for food after all.....or would he?

The man was unnervingly calm, and dressed not in the style of a desperate civilian. M.G. steeled himself, his smile turning into a scowl of unease and irritation. He smoothly moved his right hand into the shirt pocket within his trench coat. He withdrew a long rusted scalpel with which he had kept with him since the early days. Like all his other tools he never cleaned it, he could smell the amalgamation of all his past victims on it. It was longer than a normal scalpel and the second half of the blade was jagged for the patients that did not behave.

He slowed his pace as he approached the hooded man, until he stopped about two yards away. He went through a list of incantations within his head, preparing for a sort of attack or in worse case, escape plan involving the mischief caused by a spirito he could summon. Or if he was lucky he would draw a spectre to him and unleash him on the foe. in a firm voice laced with irritation and yet intrigue he addressed the man, "Whoa re you...and what are you doing in front of my home...answer me quickly and we can avoid any messes"

SEBASTIAN

The green suited man smiled as Drakon took his seat. Nearly half a second later a waiter was putting a steaming cup in front of Draken. The man's smile wavered slightly.
"Oh dear it would seem my timing was a hair to soon. It's so hard to tell when waiting on someone for this long. Or was it you who arrived early? Hard to tell at times." He stopped and sipped his own cup then looked up.
"Oh dear, where are my manners, my name is Sebastian, a pleasure to meet you." He said smiling again.
"I have soon been looking forward to this day."


There was a short pause before anyone answer Lea. The voice came, a male with a very off accent.
"Dear Cheri, my name is Leontel and I require to talk to you. It won't take long. I'm unarmed too, I'll even stand back from the door when you open it." He said in a friendly tone. If one was to look through the hotel peep hole they would see just that, a tall and fairly well dressed man standing with his hands open and his back against the wall.
"I do ask though that you don't do anything foolish. We really do not have an unlimited amount of time."


The dog cocked his had to one side then pointed down to the cooler, as if offering it to him.


The hooded man stood up and gave a curt nod to the "doctor" He glanced around one before answering.
"Indeed, I would hate to have to clean up this mess." If one could feel a vampires power then one would notice the eeire silence that fell around them. I silence of death, no one around those two could hear a thing, yet this did not seem to stop them from hearing each other.
"Now then, I have come here to ask you afew questions. When have you last been to elysium?"
The question was straight forward and harsh in tone.

Elysium? Camarilla enforced neutral ground. Maximilian tended to avoid contact, neutral or not, with his kindred neighbors. Not that M.G. did not know how to socialize and boast as well as a Toreador, his Giovanni upbringing prepared him for any social gathering.  In truth he would rather be a rumor than a household name, infamy tends to bring all sorts to the doors of the masters of the afterlife. He only stood at the stages end, waiting for his chance to take to the forefront.

Now he had what was probably one of the Camarilla in front of him. Maybe a messenger of the prince...or at least one of them. He hoped to the ancestors that it was not some Sabbat suicidal Templar on a mission to attack one....He did not need that sort of headache.

"Not for some months....never any good orchestras or plays these days..." in truth it had been close to a year since. M.G. twisted the scalpel within his hands, still on edge, not liking the tone the stranger had taken with him. "And may I say it is common courtesy to introduce oneself, especially when you sit on his home"

"Thank you, Sebastion." The city's newcomer replied flatly in its thick slavic accent. "You were waiting for me?" It added in inquiry thereafter, for the moment paying more attention to the one who had beckoned it more than the steaming cup below.

Dhani continues to look at the dog and slides the cooler closer to him. " Is this for me?" Feeling slighty crazy cor talking to a dog, Dhani slowly opened the cooler.

Ulric

The hooded man paused for a moment then straightened up, putting his heels together showing some military background.
"My name Is Ulric, I have come because things are happening around the city, as I'm sure you are aware of. Prince Gustav 'requests' that you come to Elysium at your earliest convenience." He stated in a matter of factly term. Though his words seemed well put together it was clear that this was not some social request.


Sebastian

Sebastian tilted his head slightly as he looked at Drakon. His smile never fading.
"I was, or was I waiting for someone else? No no, I'm pretty sure I was waiting on you to arrive. Though I don't think I have caught your name yet."


As Dhani opened the cooler he would find several chilled blood packs, all of them were tagged with dates much younger and fresher than what may have been left of his own stash, clearly this was not his. The dog just kept sitting there, waiting.

Maximilian sighed heavily and looked up into the sky mumbling some Italian obscenities. He turned his notably disgusted look to the lapdog before him. "I am sure the lord does have need of me." his faced changed to a passive look, one you might see on a doctor looking you over, "As always, this humble purveyor of otherworldly assistance will come. Lead the way my escort...." M.G. stressing the last word in annoyance. He turned sideways, motioning for Ulric to lead the way. Would not want ot turn his back on him. He can say he works for the antediluvians themselves, M.G. would not believe him until he say it. "So....Ulric, which clan do you claim lineage from?" said M.G. as he placed his scalpel back into his shirt pocket.

"I am Drakon." The eastern European visitor replied. "I have just arrived in the city, and as such am seeking to procure the location of the ruler of this domain, as is only proper etiquette." He added. For the time being, he didn't ask why the green-suited cainite had been waiting for him. Inwardly and silently to himself, the creature known as Drakon loosely speculated he was speaking to one of the maddened Malkavians, the divination-like premonitions of which had led to this behavior and the prediction of his arrival. Whatever the case, the Tzimisce would likely find out for itself soon.

Seeing that it is packs of blood in the cooler, Dhani threw all caution to the wind and grabbed one ripping it open with his teeth and ferociously drinking from it. He had drank a total of five packs thinking that it should be enough to hold his thirst for now. Turning his attention back on the dog, he got closer and began scratch the dog behind its ear. "I don't know who you are doggy or who you belong to but i appreciate the blood. I really needed that." Smiling to himself, Dhani stood and dusted himself off. "And here I was being paranoid."

Ulric

Ulric clenched a fist for a moment, but sighed and relaxed. He turned off and mumbled a few words.
"Gah... If only that mad man Sebastian was not off on his own task I could be off doing a real job, this is no task for a sc..." He stopped and looked over his shoulder at the Giovanni that had the gall to ask him a question about his clan. He considered slaying him then and there, but Prince Gustav would not be overly happy about that. So he sighed again and turned away from him, Speaking one word. "Assamite."


Sebastian

Sebastian smiled and made a small motion with his tea, as if saying cheers. He took a small sip and breathed deeply. He looked up at Drakon, his green eyes sparkling in the dim light cast by the lamps surrounding the cafe.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance Drakon, I'm sure I can introduce you to Prince Gustav soon enough. But first, have a sip, and tell me why you find yourself in our fair city." his tone was friendly and warm, yet there was an undertone of harshness to his words.

Spoiler:

The dog eyed Dhani as he was scratched behind the ears. As Dhani got up, his vision coming off of the dog for less then a moment. When he looked back the dog was gone, in his place was a man, white hair and black clothing. He smiled, showing off his fangs.
"Enjoyed the drink?"

Spoiler:

"Why, Yes I did." Dhani smiled and started to slight rock back and forth. "So... This must be your real form. It is nice to know that I was not talking to a real dog like a crazy person." He stopped rocking, now looking and acting more serious. "Please forgive my childish antics from earlier and if i may ask, who are you and what is your purpose for being here?"

He shrugged a bit then pulled a small folded piece of paper from his pocket.
"Prince Wilhelm gave me this letter, it just tells me to wait here on this day and time for a half starved vampire and to offer him blood." He tossed the letter with another shrug and sighed.
"I try not to ask about these things, when a Ventru ask something of you ya tend to just to do it, less things get uncomfortable for you, ten fold if said Ventru was a prince, which he is." He leaned against the back of a nearby dusty sofa.
"So just who are you exactly?"

Maximilian's eye twitched at the words Assamite. He nonchalantly retrieved his scalpel once more, he was not one to take any sort of chance with the assassin. When the hell did Gustav get a pet Assamite? M.G. sighed, making it a note to conjure a spiritu after tonight to work daylight hours on finding out everything it could about the kindred drinker. If he was lucky he would find his haven and make a subtle call to a Tremere or two. "Well then, lead on, I would rather be out of your presence sooner than later, and I am sure the feeling is mutual."