This story setting is in the old World of Darkness series.
For those of you unfamiliar with the World of Darkness, it was a series published by White Wolf Games, and involved Vampires: the Masquerade, Werewolf: The Apocalypse & Mage: The Ascension
The World of Darkness resembles the contemporary world, but it is darker, more devious, and more conspiratorial. The dichotomy between rich and poor, influential and weak, powerful and powerless, is much more pronounced than in our world. Decadence is common and corruption is everywhere. Humans are unwitting victims or pawns of vast secret organizations of supernatural creatures (for the most part). Vampires, werewolves and wraiths—among others—struggle with internal factionalism and against other "species" in secret wars of intrigue for control of reality. The battles in these wars may last centuries, beyond the realization or comprehension of ordinary humans.
I wrote the below for a setting and a start to the story, and I'd like to see if anyone would like to participate.
There I was, standing in the doorway of the office of the Vampire’s club. He was an elder, I knew that. How old he was remained a mystery, but like all bloodsuckers, he was a spooky one.
And no shit, on the TV in the office…Dexter. Season 3, I think…but I wasn’t sure.
Man, surreal. My life I mean. Not the office.
The office was ordinary, if you want to call piles of small bills (mostly singles), a shotgun, used lingerie and strip club flyers waiting for distribution ordinary.
The creature barely looked at me and finished what he was writing as I walked in and took a seat.
Formal greetings seemed out of place in this setting, and quite frankly, I wasn’t in the mood, so I sat down. This wasn’t the usual way someone like me encounters an elder vampire, but that’s the way this decade has been going, so I decided to roll with it.
The creature’s features didn’t change, but I knew it was annoyed.
Courtiers, retainers, servants, and other lesser beings begged leave to sit when in the elder’s presence…food like me didn’t even get a vote.
Fortunately for me…I’m not on the menu tonight. I think.
It closed the notebook, sealed shut the leather buckle on it and with a hint of power activated the lock. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Fuck me, someone put some serious effort into the ward on the book.
Before I had time to wonder what was in the book, the vampire’s eyes turned to me, and the rest of it followed slowly.
The dead move…differently from the rest of us. Deliberately. Most times you can’t tell with the younger ones, and even the older ones who are more sociable.
But elders who don’t interact much with humanity, who study, plan and sleep more than they get out…you can tell.
He must have been about 30 when he was Embraced. He looked much older than a 30 year old would be today, but then again, life was harder back in the middle ages. Or ancient Ur…whatever.
What he said next shocked the fuck out of me.
“Thank you for coming” he said in accent-less English. “I know it was short notice, and I’m pleased you made the time to see me here.” waving his hand at the surroundings. This was not good. Elder Vampires do not make small talk. I was so fucked. I just didn’t know how fucked.
“No problem at all.” I responded. I was sweating. He knew it. I knew that he knew.
He grinned. No teeth. How polite of the bloodsucker.
I had run into numerous bloodsucking fiends over the years, and found that the more polite they were, the more it would hurt.
But that was OK. The vampire sitting across the titty bar manager’s desk knew a bit about me too. Well, probably more than a bit…and it knew what I did when I got frightened.
The elder blinked and said, “Long ago, a family worked for me on my estates.
They were my retainers, my revenants. For many years, they prospered until the war came, and they had to flee from my holdings.”
The War…he could mean anything from the Crusades to unpleasantness in the Balkans in the 1990’s, or Iraq today. He’d tell me more later. I let him continue without interruption.
“When they fled, the bloodline I had so carefully nurtured became corrupted, and I lost interest in them. I started over when matters settled down. However, these…computers. Such wonderful things. Ancestry-dot-com…how delightful. On a whim, I checked to see if my old retainers still existed, and it turns out, they do.”
He smiled, paused, then continued, “I checked the family tree…you would call it, the old fashioned way. It was fascinating. The bloodline I had so carefully nurtured had flowered. Cross pollinated, if you will. The youngest daughter has blood of Fae, Witch and Wolf.”
Vampiric ritual blood magic wasn’t my strong suit. Hell, it wasn’t my weak suit; however, I wasn’t stupid. That kind of a bloodline makes anyone powerful, or makes a hell of an ingredient. Bones, blood, skin…soul. Yeah. It is like that.
“Any you want this scion?” I asked.
“Yes” he responded. “I want to make sure this power doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Oh, I’ll bet he didn’t. Revenants, you see, are ghoul families, and as such the bloodline of the vampire who created them runs in them from birth. Revenants can live for centuries, and are powerful. Strong, swift, hard to kill for the most part. Some can use vampiric magic without actually being bloodsuckers themselves. Of course, the stronger ones are usually kept on a tight leash by the bloodsuckers they serve, and are remarkably fucked up in the head.
Think “It rubs lotion on it’s skin!” fucked up…power comes with a price. A long lost scion of the family wouldn’t have much of a taint, if any…but with the werewolf, witch and fae blood in the scion’s background…who knows.
This woman could be nuttier than a fruitcake, sane as librarian or anything in between.
Why did he want this one? I don’t understand it much, but I know that it leaves a pathway to the bloodline’s creator that a sufficiently skilled practitioner can exploit. It dawned (ha ha..dawned…vampire humor…) on me.
He needs me to save his hide.
Or hers.
Semel sanguinem semper sanguine, the saying went. “Once blood, forever blood.”
This was the descendent of a line which swore it’s loyalty to him, from the day the oath was sworn until the end of time. Creepy vampires may be.
Dangerous, creepy, secretive and, well…creepy…they took oaths seriously.
If that was what this was about, then things got worse.
A vampire elder taking his ancient responsibilities seriously means he might pull out all the stops…as would people…well, people AND ‘things’ that wanted to thwart him.
“You have retainers for this kind of thing. Good ones, too. So. Why me? You know I’m not cheap.” I said with a slight smile.
He knew I wasn’t talking about money. I would be paid handsomely without question…but the favor I would be owed would be a doozy. Vampires aren’t in the habit of owing favors to food, and for him to be opening himself up to this meant that shit was getting real.
Truth be told, I wasn’t interested in this job given the stakes, but I was sure refusal would be not allowed. Vampires like this one aren’t in the habit of making offers that can be refused. Yeah, he was watching Dexter, but moldy-oldies like this guy are more the “Godfather” type.
His eyes hardened, and I felt a push into my mind. I pushed back. The pressure abruptly vanished and I slumped in my chair without realizing it.
Warning received.
I straightened in my chair, really pissed off. I was frightened too. Dam I was frightened. Elders like him do not usually go for the hard sell when it comes to getting people to do what they want. If he was this desperate to have allowed etiquette to slip things must really be going to hell.
Or maybe hell, excuse me…Hell was actually coming for him, and he needed the power to fight it off.
“Why you? You need ask?” he snorted. “You will be paid.” He said. He then opened the desk drawer and withdrew a document case, placing it on the desk. It was old, but well cared for. The leather was stunning, a deep, burnished bronze that just oozed luxury. Finely wrought gold trim and a strap holding it shut with a red gemstone that seemed to be a little too bright in the dingy lighting of the office. The gemstone seemed to glow from within, an unpleasant, disturbing light that seemed to be bright, but cast a shadow on all it touched at the same time.
“A bloodstone?” I asked?
He nodded.
Bloodstones were the concentrated blood of a vampire, infused with the vampire’s own will for a specific purpose. Powerful…and not something lightly done. Vampires had only a limited reservoir of will. Chipping off a piece to act as a lock on a document case wasn’t normal.
Unless you were a badass and didn’t worry about a little chip like that.
Suddenly, the light in the stone was gone. It fell off the case onto the desk, making a heavy, wet sound. The vampire placed his palm over it, and withdrew it. Not a trace remained.
I took the case.
I walked out.
I knew I was dismissed.
As I walked out, Dexter was disposing of a body.
Surreal. Fucking surreal.
Hi. I’m…well, these days, I’m called Uriah. I’ve even got a driver’s license and all that appropriate paperwork that I’m supposed to have under that name. The name…picked it out of my favorite book, you see. I’m old too. Not as old at the crusty old elder I just talked with, but old enough. I can still get a tan though, so I’ve got one up on that old guy.
I sat down in the club. A drink appeared at my elbow, delivered by the bartender. I glanced at her. Eurasian, with an unruly head of hair so dark with looked blue, leather pants and a half shirt covering up her c cups. I looked down. She had legs. Wow.
She looked better than the dancer on stage, and looked like she was board as hell. Well, who wouldn’t be in a 3rd rate titty bar on Tuesday.
I took my drink, left her a $20, walked over to a private table by the wall, and pulled the shadows in around me with an effort of my will to cloak myself and my reading material. I needed to know what was going on in a hurry.
The case contained an envelope with piece of paper containing the personal identifying information for a woman & photographs of a green eyed brunette catching a cab, at the beach, on a boat in the harbor and shooting a course of fire on a rifle range. She was holding an M-4 style rifle with some sort of optic and a suppressor. The photographer caught her in mid string, as there were several empty shell-casings in the air being ejected.
Oh. Great…this would be fun. What made it worse was the hat what she was wearing. It said L.A.P.D. and it wasn’t the tourist hat sold in gas stations. It was the real deal.
Vampires. Witches. Werewolves. Fae. The LAPD.
What else is going to be involved in this week's fun times, the Inquisition? Out of suspicion, he crossed himself. You know, for luck.
The case also contained a leather bound notebook, this time secured with a mundane buckle.
It was 1:37AM. The club closed at 4. I sipped my drink and settled in to read.
I wasn’t a vampire…but I still had lots of time.
'Uriah Johnson' is...human. Mostly.
5'10", 180# Average build. Blonde hair, brown eyes. 2 days of stubble today.
Wears business casual, with a Colt 1911 & spare magazines under his shirt. Microtech UDT (Circa 1990) knife in his pocket.
Looks somewhere between 30 & 50. His actual age, and his bloodline...he feels that would be telling.
He reinvents himself every so often. He's been using this identity for the past 12 years. He's got an excellent background with perfect documents...but if a deep background check were to be done - he'd probably not like that very much.
Uriah Johnson would have some explaining to do.
Uriah Johnson would prefer not to explain things...
He's a man who's got his own thing going, deals a lot with vampires of various sects with a reputation for generally being reliable, getting things done and someone who won't take well to being shorted on a deal.
Hit man, you say? No. Not full time, anyway...but offer him enough money and morality is kinda flexible.
Invincible, oh, hardly...hard to kill, yes, but no more than anyone who keeps his head while dealing with the supernatural. He may be food, but isn't really interested in being eaten.
Is he a good guy? Bad guy? Duno. When he figures it out, he'll let you all know by wearing the right hat to meetings.
He was in LA for business with the Kuei-jin (Kindred of the East) when he got a message that his presence was requested.
And now, he's in a bind. He is right now is a guy who just got handed a shit sandwich, and no acceptable way to say "Thank you, but no."
More can be revealed in a story as it progresses, if it ever gets going.
Well, that's the story line, setting and my character.
Anyone interested, please post a character.
Vampire, werewolf or other (you don't have to tell) would be cool too.
For those of you unfamiliar with the World of Darkness, it was a series published by White Wolf Games, and involved Vampires: the Masquerade, Werewolf: The Apocalypse & Mage: The Ascension
The World of Darkness resembles the contemporary world, but it is darker, more devious, and more conspiratorial. The dichotomy between rich and poor, influential and weak, powerful and powerless, is much more pronounced than in our world. Decadence is common and corruption is everywhere. Humans are unwitting victims or pawns of vast secret organizations of supernatural creatures (for the most part). Vampires, werewolves and wraiths—among others—struggle with internal factionalism and against other "species" in secret wars of intrigue for control of reality. The battles in these wars may last centuries, beyond the realization or comprehension of ordinary humans.
I wrote the below for a setting and a start to the story, and I'd like to see if anyone would like to participate.
There I was, standing in the doorway of the office of the Vampire’s club. He was an elder, I knew that. How old he was remained a mystery, but like all bloodsuckers, he was a spooky one.
And no shit, on the TV in the office…Dexter. Season 3, I think…but I wasn’t sure.
Man, surreal. My life I mean. Not the office.
The office was ordinary, if you want to call piles of small bills (mostly singles), a shotgun, used lingerie and strip club flyers waiting for distribution ordinary.
The creature barely looked at me and finished what he was writing as I walked in and took a seat.
Formal greetings seemed out of place in this setting, and quite frankly, I wasn’t in the mood, so I sat down. This wasn’t the usual way someone like me encounters an elder vampire, but that’s the way this decade has been going, so I decided to roll with it.
The creature’s features didn’t change, but I knew it was annoyed.
Courtiers, retainers, servants, and other lesser beings begged leave to sit when in the elder’s presence…food like me didn’t even get a vote.
Fortunately for me…I’m not on the menu tonight. I think.
It closed the notebook, sealed shut the leather buckle on it and with a hint of power activated the lock. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Fuck me, someone put some serious effort into the ward on the book.
Before I had time to wonder what was in the book, the vampire’s eyes turned to me, and the rest of it followed slowly.
The dead move…differently from the rest of us. Deliberately. Most times you can’t tell with the younger ones, and even the older ones who are more sociable.
But elders who don’t interact much with humanity, who study, plan and sleep more than they get out…you can tell.
He must have been about 30 when he was Embraced. He looked much older than a 30 year old would be today, but then again, life was harder back in the middle ages. Or ancient Ur…whatever.
What he said next shocked the fuck out of me.
“Thank you for coming” he said in accent-less English. “I know it was short notice, and I’m pleased you made the time to see me here.” waving his hand at the surroundings. This was not good. Elder Vampires do not make small talk. I was so fucked. I just didn’t know how fucked.
“No problem at all.” I responded. I was sweating. He knew it. I knew that he knew.
He grinned. No teeth. How polite of the bloodsucker.
I had run into numerous bloodsucking fiends over the years, and found that the more polite they were, the more it would hurt.
But that was OK. The vampire sitting across the titty bar manager’s desk knew a bit about me too. Well, probably more than a bit…and it knew what I did when I got frightened.
The elder blinked and said, “Long ago, a family worked for me on my estates.
They were my retainers, my revenants. For many years, they prospered until the war came, and they had to flee from my holdings.”
The War…he could mean anything from the Crusades to unpleasantness in the Balkans in the 1990’s, or Iraq today. He’d tell me more later. I let him continue without interruption.
“When they fled, the bloodline I had so carefully nurtured became corrupted, and I lost interest in them. I started over when matters settled down. However, these…computers. Such wonderful things. Ancestry-dot-com…how delightful. On a whim, I checked to see if my old retainers still existed, and it turns out, they do.”
He smiled, paused, then continued, “I checked the family tree…you would call it, the old fashioned way. It was fascinating. The bloodline I had so carefully nurtured had flowered. Cross pollinated, if you will. The youngest daughter has blood of Fae, Witch and Wolf.”
Vampiric ritual blood magic wasn’t my strong suit. Hell, it wasn’t my weak suit; however, I wasn’t stupid. That kind of a bloodline makes anyone powerful, or makes a hell of an ingredient. Bones, blood, skin…soul. Yeah. It is like that.
“Any you want this scion?” I asked.
“Yes” he responded. “I want to make sure this power doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Oh, I’ll bet he didn’t. Revenants, you see, are ghoul families, and as such the bloodline of the vampire who created them runs in them from birth. Revenants can live for centuries, and are powerful. Strong, swift, hard to kill for the most part. Some can use vampiric magic without actually being bloodsuckers themselves. Of course, the stronger ones are usually kept on a tight leash by the bloodsuckers they serve, and are remarkably fucked up in the head.
Think “It rubs lotion on it’s skin!” fucked up…power comes with a price. A long lost scion of the family wouldn’t have much of a taint, if any…but with the werewolf, witch and fae blood in the scion’s background…who knows.
This woman could be nuttier than a fruitcake, sane as librarian or anything in between.
Why did he want this one? I don’t understand it much, but I know that it leaves a pathway to the bloodline’s creator that a sufficiently skilled practitioner can exploit. It dawned (ha ha..dawned…vampire humor…) on me.
He needs me to save his hide.
Or hers.
Semel sanguinem semper sanguine, the saying went. “Once blood, forever blood.”
This was the descendent of a line which swore it’s loyalty to him, from the day the oath was sworn until the end of time. Creepy vampires may be.
Dangerous, creepy, secretive and, well…creepy…they took oaths seriously.
If that was what this was about, then things got worse.
A vampire elder taking his ancient responsibilities seriously means he might pull out all the stops…as would people…well, people AND ‘things’ that wanted to thwart him.
“You have retainers for this kind of thing. Good ones, too. So. Why me? You know I’m not cheap.” I said with a slight smile.
He knew I wasn’t talking about money. I would be paid handsomely without question…but the favor I would be owed would be a doozy. Vampires aren’t in the habit of owing favors to food, and for him to be opening himself up to this meant that shit was getting real.
Truth be told, I wasn’t interested in this job given the stakes, but I was sure refusal would be not allowed. Vampires like this one aren’t in the habit of making offers that can be refused. Yeah, he was watching Dexter, but moldy-oldies like this guy are more the “Godfather” type.
His eyes hardened, and I felt a push into my mind. I pushed back. The pressure abruptly vanished and I slumped in my chair without realizing it.
Warning received.
I straightened in my chair, really pissed off. I was frightened too. Dam I was frightened. Elders like him do not usually go for the hard sell when it comes to getting people to do what they want. If he was this desperate to have allowed etiquette to slip things must really be going to hell.
Or maybe hell, excuse me…Hell was actually coming for him, and he needed the power to fight it off.
“Why you? You need ask?” he snorted. “You will be paid.” He said. He then opened the desk drawer and withdrew a document case, placing it on the desk. It was old, but well cared for. The leather was stunning, a deep, burnished bronze that just oozed luxury. Finely wrought gold trim and a strap holding it shut with a red gemstone that seemed to be a little too bright in the dingy lighting of the office. The gemstone seemed to glow from within, an unpleasant, disturbing light that seemed to be bright, but cast a shadow on all it touched at the same time.
“A bloodstone?” I asked?
He nodded.
Bloodstones were the concentrated blood of a vampire, infused with the vampire’s own will for a specific purpose. Powerful…and not something lightly done. Vampires had only a limited reservoir of will. Chipping off a piece to act as a lock on a document case wasn’t normal.
Unless you were a badass and didn’t worry about a little chip like that.
Suddenly, the light in the stone was gone. It fell off the case onto the desk, making a heavy, wet sound. The vampire placed his palm over it, and withdrew it. Not a trace remained.
I took the case.
I walked out.
I knew I was dismissed.
As I walked out, Dexter was disposing of a body.
Surreal. Fucking surreal.
Hi. I’m…well, these days, I’m called Uriah. I’ve even got a driver’s license and all that appropriate paperwork that I’m supposed to have under that name. The name…picked it out of my favorite book, you see. I’m old too. Not as old at the crusty old elder I just talked with, but old enough. I can still get a tan though, so I’ve got one up on that old guy.
I sat down in the club. A drink appeared at my elbow, delivered by the bartender. I glanced at her. Eurasian, with an unruly head of hair so dark with looked blue, leather pants and a half shirt covering up her c cups. I looked down. She had legs. Wow.
She looked better than the dancer on stage, and looked like she was board as hell. Well, who wouldn’t be in a 3rd rate titty bar on Tuesday.
I took my drink, left her a $20, walked over to a private table by the wall, and pulled the shadows in around me with an effort of my will to cloak myself and my reading material. I needed to know what was going on in a hurry.
The case contained an envelope with piece of paper containing the personal identifying information for a woman & photographs of a green eyed brunette catching a cab, at the beach, on a boat in the harbor and shooting a course of fire on a rifle range. She was holding an M-4 style rifle with some sort of optic and a suppressor. The photographer caught her in mid string, as there were several empty shell-casings in the air being ejected.
Oh. Great…this would be fun. What made it worse was the hat what she was wearing. It said L.A.P.D. and it wasn’t the tourist hat sold in gas stations. It was the real deal.
Vampires. Witches. Werewolves. Fae. The LAPD.
What else is going to be involved in this week's fun times, the Inquisition? Out of suspicion, he crossed himself. You know, for luck.
The case also contained a leather bound notebook, this time secured with a mundane buckle.
It was 1:37AM. The club closed at 4. I sipped my drink and settled in to read.
I wasn’t a vampire…but I still had lots of time.
'Uriah Johnson' is...human. Mostly.
5'10", 180# Average build. Blonde hair, brown eyes. 2 days of stubble today.
Wears business casual, with a Colt 1911 & spare magazines under his shirt. Microtech UDT (Circa 1990) knife in his pocket.
Looks somewhere between 30 & 50. His actual age, and his bloodline...he feels that would be telling.
He reinvents himself every so often. He's been using this identity for the past 12 years. He's got an excellent background with perfect documents...but if a deep background check were to be done - he'd probably not like that very much.
Uriah Johnson would have some explaining to do.
Uriah Johnson would prefer not to explain things...
He's a man who's got his own thing going, deals a lot with vampires of various sects with a reputation for generally being reliable, getting things done and someone who won't take well to being shorted on a deal.
Hit man, you say? No. Not full time, anyway...but offer him enough money and morality is kinda flexible.
Invincible, oh, hardly...hard to kill, yes, but no more than anyone who keeps his head while dealing with the supernatural. He may be food, but isn't really interested in being eaten.
Is he a good guy? Bad guy? Duno. When he figures it out, he'll let you all know by wearing the right hat to meetings.
He was in LA for business with the Kuei-jin (Kindred of the East) when he got a message that his presence was requested.
And now, he's in a bind. He is right now is a guy who just got handed a shit sandwich, and no acceptable way to say "Thank you, but no."
More can be revealed in a story as it progresses, if it ever gets going.
Well, that's the story line, setting and my character.
Anyone interested, please post a character.
Vampire, werewolf or other (you don't have to tell) would be cool too.