I'm thinking of creating a V:tM based RP

[satindesire]

Freeform, actually, with the rules of V:tM sort of as a basis of play.

I'm no GM and I certainly don't have the desire or patience to flip through ten million books to make sure everyone's using their points correctly.

In any case, a freeform modern dark fantasy RP is my proving ground, time after time in RP. I do my best writing in threads like that. I was wondering if anyone out there in the Lit RP world would actually be interested in such a thread.

I would centralize it in either San Fransisco or New York, someplace suitable for the setting. Gotham sounds pretty good, but I'm very familiar with SF as I lived in and worked in that area for 4 years. I would also probably be happiest with it being Camarilla-only characters.

I would also probably limit the generations to 6th generation or lesser, so as to escape any noobish godmodding. And there would be a very strong emphasis on talent, where I would ask that the players be highly experienced and post often (read: Daily).

Any feedback, questions and suggestions would be quite welcome.

 

[Mantra]

I'm there, but I am not sure how many others there would be, but I'm game.

Do you want the 'whole character sheet' or just a loose history and background?

 

[satindesire]

I'm there, but I am not sure how many others there would be, but I'm game.

Do you want the 'whole character sheet' or just a loose history and background?

I'd probably want a PM character sheet, or on an OOC thread, but certainly not in the IC thread.

I prefer that physical descriptions and the like be in post form instead of in character sheet form, for the sake of style, but that's my preference. However, some gamers really seem to enjoy character sheets.

 

[Mantra]

Either or both is fine by me.

Can you handle an Archon in your story?

 

[Ravenloft]

I do have a thin blood malkavian seer named Fran, who got her eyes torn out by her sire.

Would she be acceptable?

 

[BenedictWolfe]

I.... Might be interested. I do have some questions. First: 6th generation? You do know that's an Elder, right? Those are like gods among modern Kindred. 8th generation or higher is usually what is allowed, for the purpose of sheer fairness.
Second: I'm no oWoD scholar, but I do believe that furing the latter part of the setting (early 2000's?) the struggle for New York ended with Sabbat victory. Of course, the setting is very open to modification by the storyteller.

Again, I'm not sure, but I might be in. What date does the story take place?

Edit: Actually, forget what I said about NY. I just discovered that pretty much all of the East and West coasts are held by either Sabbat or Anarchs, so that piece of canon might as well be skipped if we are to play in one of the major coastal cities.

 

[satindesire]

Either or both is fine by me.

Can you handle an Archon in your story?

As long as you don't abuse the power, sure.

God modding is something I absolutely do NOT tolerate in my threads, so anything that isn't played as all powerful. I'm sure you know the drill.

 

[satindesire]

I do have a thin blood malkavian seer named Fran, who got her eyes torn out by her sire.

Would she be acceptable?

Sounds fun!

 

[satindesire]

I.... Might be interested. I do have some questions. First: 6th generation? You do know that's an Elder, right?

Yeah, I'm taking a chance, however...I'm not stupid.

Those are like gods among modern Kindred. 8th generation or higher is usually what is allowed, for the purpose of sheer fairness.

I understand that and I'm willing to accept the risks in order to be able to play my own character.

Second: I'm no oWoD scholar, but I do believe that furing the latter part of the setting (early 2000's?) the struggle for New York ended with Sabbat victory. Of course, the setting is very open to modification by the storyteller.

Again, I'm not sure, but I might be in. What date does the story take place?

Probably San Fransisco.

Edit: Actually, forget what I said about NY. I just discovered that pretty much all of the East and West coasts are held by either Sabbat or Anarchs, so that piece of canon might as well be skipped if we are to play in one of the major coastal cities.

Powerful Elder Kindred are welcome in the thread and in my story, HOWEVER, Antediluvians and the like aren't playable. It's just too risky.

I should probably clarify exactly who can't be played in my thread due to the sheer riskiness of it, or due to the fact that it would damage/slow/confuse the plot too much.

Kindred of the East
Antediluvians
Old Clan Tzimisce
Absimilliard-bound Nosferatu
Nagaraja


Elder Vampires are an -Integral- part of this story and I'll need several. We'll also need ghouls and thin bloods. I'm hoping to find one or two of each, but not everyone knows enough about V:tM to play. I'm praying.

If you have anymore questions, feel free to ask.

 

[Mantra]

As long as you don't abuse the power, sure.

God modding is something I absolutely do NOT tolerate in my threads, so anything that isn't played as all powerful. I'm sure you know the drill.

The character I was hoping on is an 8th Gen Ventrue Archon. While he's definatly potent, he is far from 'all-powerful' and I am very familiar with WoD and the role of the Archons and Justicars so we can likely work together on whatever role you wish him to fill.

Of course, it's your story. I have several lesser characters if you prefer.

 

[satindesire]

The character I was hoping on is an 8th Gen Ventrue Archon. While he's definatly potent, he is far from 'all-powerful' and I am very familiar with WoD and the role of the Archons and Justicars so we can likely work together on whatever role you wish him to fill.

Of course, it's your story. I have several lesser characters if you prefer.

Actually, that sounds great!

 

[Mantra]

Archon Quincy MacIntyre

Here is something I wrote up for another storyteller a few years ago, but it still fits. Enjoy.

Quinn's History


Quinn watched patiently as his 'host' set up and then sat upon the old metal
folding chair on the other side on the water damaged card table they both
now shared. His host was a Nosferatu, notoriously ugly as the rest of his
kind, but at least this one did not reek of the sewers. Quinn was used to
them however and his host's appearance didn't stir the Archon in the
slightest. The Nos laid out a yellow legal pad and pencil, then placed a handheld tape recorder in the center of the table. The speaker plate had a notable dent across it but clicked on obediently at the press of a button. Quinn had agreed to this little interview. It was a part of his agreement for Cock Robin, the Nosferatu Justicar, information for information.

Quinn shifted in his own seat, making himself as comfortable as he could
in his own metal chair. "So where to begin.." he began, thinking back.

"How about at the beginning, smartass..." his host mumbled back.

Quinn's eyes met and held the Nosferatu's own. The Archon shifted slightly
again, the hilt of an automatic pistol peeked out from inside his jacket. More
unsettling was Quinn's gaze. Cold, hard and unflinching, his demeanor had cowed wild dogs in the past and few would be foolish enough to bring the ire of an Archon down upon them regardless of who called whom to an interview. The Nos squirmed a bit and looked down to his notepad, briefly and quickly waving his hands in a mute apology and submission. Quinn set his host free of his gaze, nodding slightly.

"Very well then, from the beginning."

"I was born in Wales, England in 1740, the only son to a servant family.
Our benefactor and my future sire, Carles Monroe, uprooted and moved to the American Colonies in 1758. Whether he was seeking new lands and profits or fleeing his own form of 'persecution' in the Old World, I do not know. Never was I told of his past in Europe. We landed in Massechuses just at the end of the French and Indian war and Mr. Monroe had very quickly ingrained himself into the growing political and economic scene. He had a good deal of status among the kine from Europe as well as currency and managed to create a trading company, offering a means of commerse amongst the Colonials. He soon had a shipping business and his political connections granted him tracts of wild woodlands. We soon found ourselves moved to Pennsylvania and plying the wealth of precious timber in 1760."

"As for myself, I had become something of a woodsman and scout. I had
developed a knack for exploration as well as fending off both Indians and
unwanted visitors. I was well into my twenties, a full grown man with many
responsibilities. I had never married, instead serving the needs of my sire
and his interests. In hindsight, it very well might have been his will and
wishes overshadowing my own. Whatever the reason, I excelled at what he wanted it seemed.
My future sire gifted me with a pair of flintlock pistols once for my efforts
and dedication, but there were other rewards. My pockets always had coins in
them and wine was often served with dinner. Although a servant in the employ
of another, I possessed my own horse and men came and went at my orders."

"I was ghouled around 1765. I do not know the exact date. Many of my
missions and returns from long trips were toasted at the dinner table with a
glass of red wine. It was an easy task for him to have touched the spirits
with his own vitae. My ideals and motivations merged even further with his
after the Blood Bond had hold of me. Even then, I did not realize what I had become until a year later. One night, our mansion was beset by robbers. The invaders were thwarted, but not before I was shot through
the chest for my part. Our lordship came to me in my chambers and slit his
own wrist, bidding me drink and be whole. I did and it was that eve that I
learned of the Masquerade, my Sire's dread true nature and my own role in his schemes."

"After that fateful night, the nature of my missions changed somewhat. I
was still a scout and explorer, but the lands and resources of my lordship's
enemies became my wilderness. The minions and lackeys of these same enemies became my targets. I learned much of the ways the Kindred opperated in those times, and I learned of the Sabbat. I have loathed the Sabbat for as long as I can remember. Perhaps because I have been fed nothing but loathing and hatred for them since that fateful night I learned about the World of Darkness about me. Whatever the reason, the Sabbat became the Enemy, nothing more. A virus which needed to be stamped out and the epitome of everything I have sought to overcome. More of that later."

"The Revolution came about and my view into the World of Darkness saw
evermore frequent clashes between the Sabbat and the Camarilla. I joined the
Pennsylvania militia as did many of the kine with Monroe's influence
keeping me near his home most of the time. Missions coincidently coincided
with military objectives and although the militia often suffered defeat, my
more secretive operations met different needs. Perhaps my greatest success
during the war was in 1776. I crept down into Trenton, New Jersey. On
that Christmas Eve, General George Washington was secretly preparing to
cross the river and attack the Hessians encamped within the city. Not long
before, arrangements were made and the Hessian mercenaries 'discovered' a
storehouse full of liquor which the naturally plundered for their own Holliday
festivities. While the Hessians drank themselves into a stupor, their
ghouled Captain and Sabbat pawn met a prearranged end at my hands. When the Colonial Army struck Trenton, their most ferocious and boisterous captain was already sleeping in Hell. The rest is printed in the History books."

"There were other missions and objectives after the Revolution. I once
burned out the mansion of a Ventrue antiribui while he slept in Quebec and
tangled with Lasombra controlled 'missionaries' in Spanish Florida.
Sometimes I was successful and sometimes not but I served my lordship to the
very best of my abilities. Still, it did not change the fate that awaited me
in 1812. The British again invaded the newly formed America and struck into
the hearts of the kine cities. In their wake, the Sabbat struck in force all
along the coast and beyond. Many of the American Camarilla were sent reeling
back or met the Final Death. My lordship too, lost his shipping and trade
establishments and we were soon fleeing and fighting for our lives in those
nights. It was in those opening nights of the War of 1812 that I was offered
the Embrace. The Neonates call it a 'battlefield promotion' in these nights
but there was little choice. In the back room of a woodcarver's shop, my
lordship took my blood and gave it back to me. Charles Monroe became my Sire and I was reborn into Clan Ventrue of the Camarilla Kindred."

"There was little time for me to be instructed 'properly' as would have
traditionally been the way. We were still at war, both with the British and
with the Sabbat. I learned the gifts of the Blood quickly, for war and
desperation made harsh teachers. I found that I was more fortunate in some
ways than others. My long time servitude as foreman, scout, soldier and ghoul
had educated me somewhat to the ways of the world of the Kindred. Many other 'Promotees' lacked my background and more often than not, my survival rate. My Sire and I had joined in with a band of other displaced Camarilla
Kindred. We fought back with what we could, where we could, determined to
bloody the Sabbat even as we fell. In the end, the Camarilla had lost many
territories and Kindred, but the Sabbat failed to destroy us completely. The
war of 1812 ended more or less as a stalemate for the kine, but the Sabbat
had defiantly taken a toll among us. Much of what the Camarilla had created
in the century before was in ruins and what little infrastructure existed
between the Princes was shattered. My own sire, whom I had served for over
60 years, did not survive to see the end of the war."

"In a way, I was never so free. I was Kindred now and the binds upon my mind
and body so long imposed by my Sire were gone. I drifted for a year or so,
but in the end, I took up where my Sire had left off. The
timberlands and farms were still there and the kine were simple enough
things to control. Although I never entered into the shipping business as my
Sire had, I soon had my own timber and farmlands. The fortune of lumber
still called to a rebuilding and growing America and I began to reap the
benefits. I used my growing wealth to help fund explorations of the ever growing American wilderness and copies of many of the maps that were made ended up on my table. I later offered these to the Camarilla to do with as they willed. The Sabbat had fallen to squabbling among themselves and I used what influence I could to fan the fires of their discontent. I too, was becoming discontent with the manipulation of assets well behind the lines of what I saw as a still raging war between the Sabbat and Camarilla. I used my business and bank contacts and 'branched out', often to disputed territories to take a more active role in challenging the Sabbat."

"I relocated alot in those nights. My business moved from timber to cash
crops to mercantile. I secured Government contracts to supply the Army and
kept watchful eyes on those areas where I could strike. My business followed
the conflicts of the United States and consequently, the Sabbat and
Camarilla. The Mexican American War began in earnest in 1845 and I leapt at
the chance. My business had become twined in the roots of the Railroad and
with a few wartime supply shipments, I was able to join in the war myself.
The end of the Mexican American War was a great victory. America soundly
defeated the Mexican Army, and what was to become Texas, California, Arizona
and New Mexico were wrenched away from Sabbat hands. As for myself, I had
claimed the unlife of a Tzimice voivode in a warped and twisted villa just
past the Sevine River, which the natives called, 'Casa de loco diablos".
House of the Crazy Devils."

"Another advantage came about with the beginning of the American Civil
War. This time however, I did not charge into the war, I was requested to
attend. I had developed a reputation for fighting the Sabbat and the
Princes wanted my experience. The Sabbat again had begun to squabble among themselves and the kine Civil War had broken out right in the middle of
them. When Sherman marched to the sea, carving a swath through the heart of Georgia, I was there, following behind and burning out what resistance
remained. Although I cannot begin toclaim sole responsibility for it, I
helped regain Savanna and Atlanta from Sabbat claws in 1861. On the economic front, the Railroad Strike in 1877 and later the Steel Strike in 1894 forced many, including myself, away from the direct confrontation of the
Sabbat/Camarilla war. The Sabbat, especially the Lasombra, had learned the
power of the industry and the influence the kine wielded and had cultured
and directed their own economic front of the war. Fortunately, the Camarilla
held the higher cards in that time. The Steel Strikes were ended by the
'timely' intervention of the US Government when they sent in federal troops
to run the mills."

"The coming of World War I and later II did not effect me that much. By
1905 my interests had branched from the railroads and into the steel
industry. All of which flourished and grew during the World Wars. It was
during the first half of this century that I finally realized that for all of my
efforts, I could not hope to destroy the Sabbat myself. The greatest threat to the Sword of Caine was a strong Camarilla. I came to realize that the greater my own influence and power, the greater danger I was to my individual
opponents. I learned that the greatest weapon I could have against the
Sabbat was knowledge. For that, I partly turned to the Nosferatu and attempted to cultivate my skills within the Camarilla and among the kine. I did not press the Sabbat directly for much of the first half 1900's, instead I
worked to improve my own skills and resources. There was a single noteworthy
incident in 1944 when German saboteurs secretly landed on the East Coast and were captured by American security. I learned that members
of the Sabbat had taken an interest in them. Using my influence, I saw to it that the saboteurs were quickly isolated and later, hung."

"The later half of the 1900's was much more complex. The rise of
McCarthyism made me see the new strength of the kine Government Services and I began to work towards influencing these in selective areas. It also
revealed to me the glaring lack of understanding I had with this new age.
Although I still had stocks and enterprises which allowed me large amounts
of resources, I was falling behind in the markets and new areas of
technology. Again I turned to the Nosferatu, I would not be one to stagnate
like so many Kindred did in their aging years. It was shortly after this
time of training that the Sabbat gained control of Silicon Valley. I had
begun to develop interest in the electronics market, but the intervention of
the Lasombra smashed that. Many other Kindred lost much more that I, but the
loss of the Valley itself was a greater sting. Corporate Raiding and Hostile
Takeovers were the new battlefield tactics and I was ill prepared for that environment.
I was anxious to reenter the battle in any case and petitioned the Clan
Leaders to be accepted as an Archon, seeing that as my greatest chance to
uphold the Camarilla and crush the Sabbat. However, my time with the
Nosferatu and lack of tact and propriety had prejudiced some of my
own Clan against me. I was surprised when I was offered the
position of Archon a year later from Justicar Cock Robin. I accepted willingly."

" I went to Silicon Valley to learn what I could and to 'clean up the mess'. For
my part, I was only marginally successful. The trail was long cold and the Sabbat firmly entrenched within the corporations. I did however, gather some useful information about who owned what businesses and the like and I also made one very useful contact; a kine who had unknowingly been the employee of some Toreador company wiped out by the Sabbat. He had been 'downsized' by the corporate takeover and was enacting his own form of payback by hacking the company databases. Had he known anything about the Sabbat, he likely would never have been so foolish, but unfortunately for him, the Sabbat were not pleased by his actions. He only survived because I happened to be in the right place at the right time. Pure coincidence and fortune for us both. Afterwards, I was sent to Southern California. The new Anarch Free States had been formed and although I had little love for the Anarchs, I was told to leave them be. My mission was only to ensure that they 'behaved' and kept the Masquerade intact. It served to place a buffer between the Sabbat Mexico and the Camarilla Central California cities, to the Anarchs were left to themselves for the most part.."

"It was in the mid 1980's that I was instructed to probe the California/Mexican border and report. You may
recall that the first of the Mexican drug tunnels were discovered around
that time. I discovered their existence and it was a simple thing to point the DEA in that direction. It slowed the Sabbat somewhat, hampering their ability to move North and bit into their drug cartels, but by that time, San Diego was
under siege and Sabbat packs were creeping towards Sacramento. I was also
instructed to 'deal' with the mysterious I - 80 Killer. The cereal killer
who preyed on female hitchhikers along the highway. Naturally, the I-80 Killer was Kindred. I do not know if that particular Malkavian was Sabbat or just particularly deranged, but he threatened the Masquerade and that was enough. I remained in town one day longer than he did before being sent to Detroit. Just long enough to witness him burn to ash when the sun came up. I did not stay off the West Coast long. With the East Coast in turmoil, I was sent back to the West Coast, San Francisco, to aid the Camarilla however I could....and to destroy Sabbat."

Quinn sat for a moment in silence. The Nos diligently taking notes finally
looked up when he realized there was no more coming.

"So now you know. I have paid that which was agreed upon."

 

[satindesire]

That's perfect! I think that's better than any character sheet, honestly.

 

[Mantra]

I have that too if you wish

 

[satindesire]

I have that too if you wish

The Intro was perfect. Don't worry.

 

[Mantra]

Cool.

So would you care to elaborate on your story idea? Any sneak peeks or the like?

 

[satindesire]

Cool.

So would you care to elaborate on your story idea? Any sneak peeks or the like?

I'm actually on my way out. However, I will as soon as I get back.

 

[satindesire]

My story will be loose of course, with plenty of room for sub plots.

This is also a taste of her personal history.


Photo of Alais here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/24535764@N05/2324935061/


In 1427 in the city of Alexandria, Alais Ravencroft was born seven minutes before her twin sister Flidias. Their mother served as a cult servant to a Vampire who had taken it upon himself to start his own religion and pose as a God. Their father's identity was never revealed to them although it was likely he was amongst the cult members as well.

Their mother was emotionally unstable and manipulative, totally worshipfully devoted to the Vampire and often neglected and abused her children. The brunt of her misguided rage was directed towards Alais who tried her best to shield her sister from such treatment.

Her schooling was harsh and mistakes were met with physical abuse and starvation. She learned mathmatics, astrology, alchemy, languages and philosophy, as well as several mediums of art such as voice, dance, painting and sculpture.

As the years passed and the Vampire's influence grew, the demands he made of his followers grew more and more strange as his own sanity threatened to crumble. The Vampire leader grew more cloistered and unstable in his actions, forgiving harsh mistakes and betrayals one moment and slaying an innocent for the slightest infraction the next.

Shortly after she began to sprout into a woman, Alais was finally thought as 'acceptable' to join the cult. Increasingly paranoid and obsessed with 'signs' and the occult, the Immortal ordered Flidias murdered and Alais blood bonded. Because of their unusual birth circumstances, the Vampire thought that by bonding with the young girl, he could gain some sort of new dark power.

Escaping only by shattering the nose of one of her attackers and slicing the throat of another, she raced through the village only to find her sister drained to an empty husk, the Immortal gleefully gloating over his triumph.

So...She ran, traveling for weeks from Alexandria by pickpocketing, petty thievery and finally prostituting herself. After a few months of pocketing her coin, Alais saved up enough to buy herself a modest stall in the market of a large nearby city where she began to sell her artwork.

An Immortal traveling through the bazaar was struck by the maturity and pain in the young woman's paintings and sculpture, and they began a close friendship which soon blossomed into more. They traveled extensively, south across Africa, back north through Baghdad and even as far north as Greece.

It became evident to Jules that Alais was no longer a child, and he had longed for companionship. His own Sire had been part of the Tzimisce's massacre of their bloodline, and his own longing for a childe had set his sights firmly upon her.

Jules turned Alais just before her twentieth birthday. Cutting a bloody swath across the continents they tasted men and women from all nations. Her Thirst seemed inslakeable and her new powers were the instrument to finally burn her rage across the ages...to release the helplessness and inexpressed grief she felt at the hands of her mother and the nameless Vampire who had destroyed her childhood.

In 1850, Jules and Alais decided that their prospects of adventure were exhausted in the Old World and took their murderous spree off to America, where Jules fit beautifully into the struggle for power that happened behind the scenes in the still-bleeding New World. They were growing tired of their lifestyle and the Camarilla's ideals of protecting the mortals and the Vampiric identity suited them both.

But as if it were doomed to her by fate, Alais became obsessed over Dark Thaumaturgy, the very same occult practices that had consumed the Vampire cult leader and her mother, and spent months on end deep in studies, quickly forgetting the struggle around her as her power grew.

Her absence from the war effort and neglect of their relationship was not lost on him or the other members of the Camarilla, and soon Jules found companionship in the arms of a powerful Ventrue woman who considered Alais a traitor for not being on the front lines, pushing for Camarilla supremacy.

It was six years before Alais emerged from her studies only to find the war raging as strongly as ever, if now only in carefully monitored areas with relatively minor bloodshed. And also, to her horror, she found Jules with the Ventrue woman.

As if a dam had been unleashed, Alais slew the Ventrue woman and diablerized Jules, and in her murderous rage slaughtered the Ventrue woman's servants and family and promptly slipped into Torpor.

Only after she had finally come to her senses did she recall what had transpired. Her grief was inescapable, and only by the pressure of several other Tremere members on the Prince did she keep her life. Hated and outcast by many for the Camarilla, Alais spent the next century and a half either studying Thaumaturgial text and practice, or deep in regretful Torpor.

*****************

And here is where the story will begin.

Alais is woken forcefully from Torpor after a Sabbat cell out of Mexico begins to work it's way up California, slaughtering Immortal and kine alike, and risking the masquerade as well. The human authorities can't cover up the bloodshed alone, and it's up to the San Fransisco cell of Camarilla to stop the Sabbat whelplings before they take all of California for themselves.

 

[camerindrake]

Im interested but I usually like to play ravnos who is got more of the mindset of the artist
but i will change him into toredor if you need me to.