V;tm — The Gangrel Clan

[StarXChyld]

This thread is going to be tied to a group of others that will tell the story of Vampire; The Masquerade. To read more about how you can join us, please click here. . .

http://www.literotica.com/forum/showthread.php?s=&postid=3129000

In the meantime, I would like to present the first Clan of seven in the Camarillo. The Clan — Gangrel.

Steiner will be the host of this thread and you may PM him directly if you'd like to join this thread or have questions regarding the Gangrels. I'll be running the whole V;tm game and you may PM or email me with comments, suggestions, requests for sexual favors. . .wait! That shouldn't be in here! ::wicked smile:: I think you get the idea.

So without further ado, put your reading glasses on for Steiner and his clan, Gangrel!

 

[Steiner]

Okay, Gangrel aren't much for big speeches or pep talks. We don't have the money, the power or the fancy toys. I can't offer you big business, high finance or organised crime and I don't run the government.

But I'm the best there is at what I do, to quote a trademarked comicbook character - and what I like to do is my own thing, free of interference by any damn city Prince or Council of Elders.

As Gangrel we run like a pack in the wild. That means I don't expect those who share my blood to waste their time and mine in stupid bickering and plots against each other. It also means that you're captain of your own damn fate - and if you don't like it, you can always move out of my turf. If you think that's not a generous offer then wait until you become more acquainted with the Tremere or Ventrue, let alone the Sabbat.

If you're reading this as a member of another clan then maybe you've heard that Gangrel eat other vampires in preference to mortals. Well, we don't. Normally. You're quite welcome to come visit, but just remember - I'll be watching you. It's a long way back to home turf with a pack of wolves on your trail...

 

[Steiner]

OOC: Lars Character intro

As the clan grows (Roll up! Roll up!) each of us will need an intro so that other participants can get a sense of the characters they'll be interacting with. Here's the one I posted for Lars.


------------



The first thing that Lars heard as he started to come to was squabbling voices. That didn't seem very fair at all - hardly any sort of a wakeup after three long decades of enforced sleep. Sight was the next sense to slowly start returning and the images he did see were even more unsettling than the argument he'd been listening to. Three people, dressed in black, watched excitedly as two others heatedly argued about something he couldn't make out - waving hands in each others faces and gesturing animatedly.

An alien presence reached deep into Lars, the wooden stake buried so deeply in his chest that it had penetrated the stone lid of the high stone coffin he sprawled on - clearly the group hadn't wanted to take any chances on him waking before they were ready for him, his feverishly spinning mind having identified them now - a Sabbat hunting pack. These small groups of younger vampires hunted for Elders to consume, increasing their own power and gaining status from the removal of powerful foes at the same time. That Lars had been locked in torpor after coming off decidedly the worst in a fight just made matters easier for them. He supposed he owed Erick no hard feelings, he had been leading the pack for over a hundred years and supremacy had obviously softened him too much.

Matters were clearly coming to a head in the centre of the tomb, the problem with these hunting parties were that they tended to be a hotbed of ambition and sometimes underlings weren't willing to settle for the promise that they would one day recieve an Elder of their own to drain. Harsh words turned to hard blows, as the male and female vampires were soon shoving each other back and forth jockeying for advantage. The female overreached and was punished by her opponent with a slash across the chest that drove her hard back against the tomb Lars lay on. As the dazed vampire lay back against Lars, her opponent stepped up to finish matters and the desperate underdog fumbled across the tomb lid for some impromptu weapon to even the odds. Lars felt the vampires hand close about the stake in his chest and tear it free, desperate strength driving her forward to plunge the wooden shaft into the heart of her opponent. As the defeated ex-leader sank to the ground, the victor raised her arms in the air and snarled at her packmates, daring them to do as she had done. The three fell back in fear, their terror clear on white faces.

Lucilla, the victorious Sabbat hunter, acknowledged the fear on her companions faces as her just tribute, but thought they were overdoing things slightly, so long as they didn't seek to challenge her they were in no danger from her at all. Then she looked down at the stake in her rivals chest and her mouth dropped open as she remembered where she had snatched it from. Spinning on her heel she turned just in time to see the hulking shape behind her stretch out an arm as thick as her leg and wrap its fingers round her throat. The three walking members of the Sabbat hunting group managed to claw the thick wooden door open, finally, and flee from the grisly sounds as the awakened Gangrel Elder fed.

An hour later, the two Sabbat who had squabbled over his body were crumbling bones and dust in the Crypt beneath St. Michaels and Lars found himself again on the streets of London. Things were bound to have changed since his Biker gang had ruled a stretch of Eastend Dockland, but Lars was an urban predator, and the hunting here had always been good.


OOC:
Gangrel stay on the outside of Kindred politics, and Lars is no exception. Even amongst other Gangrel he is viewed as being unambitious. A small group of followers, enough turf to feed safely from and as little interference as possible from the local Prince is all he has asked for the entire span of his second life. Born in the late 1200's Lars fled the Christianisation of his homeland to the wilds of Germany. Living for some time in the Black Forest he became little more than a story told to children to keep them from playing too far into the woods. The march of progress, however, eroded the wild places of Europe until Lars was forced to become a city creature. To his surprise he soon found himself quite at home amongst the poorer inhabitants. The creation of the Camarilla forced Lars to mix with other Vampires as their society grew in the thriving cities, and he soon found he had little time for clever wordplay or scheming. This almost proved to be his undoing, as time and again he was used as a dupe by more cunning kindred in their Machiavellian plots. After one particularly bad reversal he was forced to flee to England, where he remained through the 19th and 20th Century. He never stayed in one place for more than twenty or thirty years, and his last role had been as the leader of a gang of bikers based in London. This gave him an excellent cover, as there are many urban areas in Britian within a nights travel by motorcycle and Lars took his gang from place to place, ostensibly looking for a "rumble" or carrying out petty crime. In the end his lack of ambition caused him to be usurped by his own Lieutenant who had been persuaded to settle down and carve some turf out in the Eastend. During the fight, Lars was staked and left for dead.

Despite his great age and power, Lars has little use for what he considers "fancy tricks". Most of the strange powers he picked up he did so whilst roaming the Black Forest and so he can see in the dark, sprout huge claws from his fists and assume the form of a wolf at need. He can also sink into bare earth or grass to spend the night safe from the Sun. All of his other powers are tied into physical prowess, which has become superhuman over the centuries. He is fast, strong and tireless and must take care to perform within mortal limits in mixed company. Although he is physically impressive he is not persuasive, learned and he is too straightforward to be inclined to the subtle. Constant manipulation has made him somewhat suspicious of suave domineering types, but once you break down his defences he is generally putty in the right hands.

 

[StarXChyld]

Nice Job, Steiner!

Let's see if we can't recruit a few vamps for your clan. . .

 

[Steiner]

An offer of help from the Sabbat? Excuse me while I take the time to smell this properly!

 

[StarXChyld]

What's the matter?

Don't you trust me, darlin'? ::icy blue eyes dancing wickedly under dark lush lashes::

 

[Steiner]

::Smiles over wickedly curved incisors and canines::

"Trust you? As far as I could comfortably SPIT you, luscious one. "

 

[StarXChyld]

::smirks::

I love it when you talk dirty to me, darlin'. . .

Just a little bump to let others know what you're up to. ::winx::

 

[Steiner]

Ah yess... <grin> I expect the hunt to begin shortly.

 

[Steiner]

The Wolf's Head

Double Post.

 

[Steiner]

The Wolf's Head

In the backroom of the Wolf's head a powerstruggle was coming to its fatefull conclusion - Lars watched the Malamute as it frantically eyed the biscuit on its nose, every line of its body quivering with eagerness.

"G'wan Eisna, take the damn thing" he growled with rough gentleness and the Malamute tossed the biscuit from her nose and snapped it out of the air. Lars chuckled as she approached him and licked his hand roughly before settling to sleep on the floor at his feet. Reaching down he ruffled her ears and was rewarded by the thump of her tail hitting the floor.

Lars was in a good mood - he'd already broken the leader of the local bike gang, the mans motorcycle was parked outside and his drained body was buried in the woodland outside town. Most of the gang had split, but a few of them had decided to sign on with him, and now he had a good sized piece of the streets under control. Under cover of the biker parties that now took place most nights in the Wolf's Head Lars had enough food, money and company to keep him going.

He'd contacted the local Prince, and she'd said that he was welcome to the area, that he was the Eldest Gangrel in residence and that she regarded him as one of the Primogen. In return he was expected to render all reasonable aid, blah, blah, blah. The letter had been signed on parchment, which marked her as something of a traditionalist - Lars felt that her name should have meant something to him, but he hadn't really been paying much mind to politics lately.

He leaned back and put his booted feet up on the table, the metal plates welded to the shinguards shaving a sliver of wood from the table. Now that everything was in motion, he found he was a little bored...

 

[StarXChyld]

The Evening Paper


The Manchester Mail


United Press Service 11/22/02
Manchester, England

DESERT STORM VETERAN FOUND SLAIN

Steven Brickmann was found dead late last night on the outskirts of Manchester. Brickmann, a member of the Special Forces for the U.S. Air Force, had traveled to England to deliver the remains of his wife, Tamaria Arafati, to the rightful resting place with her family here in Manchester, where they had recently relocated due the the conflict in the Middle East.

She had been tragically killed in a car accident back in the States. Tamaria’s father, Kareem Arafati, stated that Brickmann had come to his home yesterday afternoon to deliver the remains of his daughter and present him a a sizable check from his daughter’s life insurance policy. “Enough to see my five sons through University”, Mr. Arafati was quoted as saying.

The circumstances of Mr. Brickmann’s death are being withheld pending U.S. Government verification. One source close to the case however, claim that when Brickmann’s body arrived at the Manchester County morgue, the medical staff was shocked to discover that the body had been completely drained of blood. The coroner has refused to comment.

 

[Steiner]

The thing had all the hallmarks of a Sabbat killing - it was the sort of thing that they liked to do to forment trouble in Camarilla held cities. He knew from experience that the Sabbat were active, but weak, in the UK and this was just the sort of stunt they'd pull.

He knew that the ruler of Manchester was a Tremere warlock - on second thoughts, perhaps this was an experiment gone badly awry? Either way, when their prince found out about this, all hell was going to break loose. He didn't envy the Tremere at ALL when the Prince contacted him.

 

[StarXChyld]

The Manchester Mail

The Manchester Mail


United Press Service 11/23/02
Manchester, England

INVESTIGATION IN U.S. SERVICEMAN’S DEATH BEGUN

Manchester’s police sources confirm that a preliminary investigation into the death of U.S. Air Force Officer Steven Brickmann has begun. An autopsy was ordered by police homicide investigator Seth MacMichael. The findings will not be made public for several days according to the sources.

The body of the serviceman was found behind a meat packing plant under some mysterious circumstances. However Investigator MacMichael refused to call it a homicide. “As we know, things happen in Manchester which are strange to some,” MacMichael stated, “but do have completely understandable explanations once the circumstances are made clear”. MacMichael denied that there was any link between the death of the serviceman and recent anti-American demonstrations near the U.S. Embassy. He also refused to comment on whether the U.S. government was planning it’s own investigation. “They can answer such questions themselves.” MacMichael said.

However, U.S. embassy attache Christopher Keefe said that all avenues of investigation would be explored. “We have a U.S. military officer deceased in a foreign land under unexplained circumstances.” said Mr. Keefe. “Such matters would always be reviewed by the appropriate personnel here.” Mr. Keefe also denied any knowledge that the death was tied to any terrorist or anti-Western agents. “Such inquiries constitute unreasonable conjecture at this point in time.” stated Mr. Keefe. “We simply need more information.”

Police sources said that preliminary information suggests that the officer had been socializing in popular Manchester nightclubs prior to his disappearance. It is believed that investigators will be pursuing several leads in the downtown area.

 

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

It was the malamut that noticed the intruder first. The large beast's growls alerted the creature's master. With all the confidence of a wilds-proven gangrel Lars turned with unhurried threat towards the sounds, now audible to his sharp ears, of an approaching beast. Something small...but not travelling like a normal small animal. It walked without the furitive fear of prey, the hesitant caution.

Yet it did not tread as a predator would, moving, and pausing in search. No, this was an animal that moved with a specific purpose. Which meant no animal at all. Or at least, not one of its own free will. Soon the audible intruder came into view. A small, sleek shape walking into the center of the door frame and then sitting down.

A cat. The beast was not small by street standard, but terribly well kept, either. It cleaned one of its paws a moment before luminous green-brown eyes blinked and met Lars gaze steadily. Then it began to speak. Not in the language of man, nor did it conversein the language of beasts, which the old gangrel also knew. Instead it spoke as if directly to his mind. A calm, authoritative voice, one well used to the distribution of power, could be...felt more than heard.

Simeon was sure it grated on Lars nerves.

Greetings from Primogen Grey of Clan Tremere, to Primogen Lars of Clan Gangrel. Primogen Grey wishes to express his apologies for disturbing your evening, but would like to assure you that events have occurred that require action. All Primogen representatives are respectfull requested to meet within the Elysium to discuss matters.

The cat blinked a moment, and then suddenly hissed loudly in fright, bounding away and out of sight from the large malamut.

 

[Steiner]

"Ach, how wonderful. You must have heard all those tales about how we Gangrel welcome unannounced visitors into our homes. Oh no, wait, that's not right we hate unannounced visitors - how stupid of me."

But the controlling influence had already fled the animal - which panicked and fled. So the Prince summons the primogen? To Elysium no less - but which Elysium and where?

 

[Lady_Kit]

Natalia

As the car pulled away from the curb in front of the Chantry of Clan Tremere the last call was made.

"Please inform the Primogen of Clan Gangrel that Prince Natalia will arrive within the hour."

Sara, Natalias secretary put away the phone, then turned spoke.

"All the elders have have been notified Highness. Lars of the Gangrel Clan is our first stop."

 

[Steiner]

Lars growled, he hated having his solitude disturbed - when he entered Kindred society it was generally on his own terms. Now the Prince was coming HERE, and he'd not had time yet to arrange multiple havens. The idea of the Prince knowing where he slept filled Lars with concern - he was going to have to sleep rough after tonight, until he found somewhere else.

He moved into the front bar, and with a few well chosen words cleared the place of revellers. There was no way in hell he'd have the place tidied before Natalia arrived, but at least it wouldn't be packed with Kine, and throbbing with loud music. The staff did what they could, but before long he heard a car pull up outside, and he dismissed them too, leaving the place half-tidied.

Eisna padded up next to him and whined, picking up on his mood. He ruffled the silky fur between her ears, drawing strength from the contact with a faithful and trustworthy companion. And then straightened, facing the door that Natalia would no doubt enter through.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Natalia

She stepped from the limo and looked around the neighborhood that was the home of the Gangrel clan. She wrinkled her nose as several unpleasant smells assaulted her at once. One of her attendants, she hated the term "ghoul" stepped up to open the door of the Wolfs Head Bar.

Thank you, Tomas. You may all wait for me here. I have nothing to fear from Lars.

Natalia moved through the door with the unnatural grace of a vampire, and the ingrained dignity of a woman born to be a royal. The dim light was no impediment to her, and she spotted Lars at once; not that he could or would easily hide, it was simply not his way.

She smiled at him, for all his uncivilized sensibilities, he was one of her favorites of the Clans.

Hello Lars, I hope I haven’t driven away your business with my visit. I promise to keep it brief. I know how you hate these little tete-a-tetes.

 

[Steiner]

Lars watched the regal kindred walk into his bar, her sense of poise and personality overwhelming him. Summoning his willpower he resisted the tug of her unnatural presence and stepped out into the centre of the bar.

"Natalia... Always a pleasure to meet a Prince who doesn't feel the need to be surrounded by sycophants and toadies."

A voice in the back of his head was screaming at him to kneel, or at the least bow, but he clamped down on it and acknowledged her with the merest of nods - his eyes on hers the whole time and not submissively lowered.

"Well... You look grand, after all these years."

He stretched out his hand to take hers and bowed over it, touching it to his lips but not kissing it. As he was bent over her hand, his heightened sense of smell filled in all kinds of information about her physical condition, current mood and her last meal. Natalia seemed unfazed - used to Gangrel properieties.

"Does that satisfy the demands of protocol? Do you want to tell me what is so all-fired urgent that you dragged your exquisite self all the way over here in person?"

 

[Lady_Kit]

Natalia, smiled at Lars as he discreetly inhaled her scent while bending over her hand. She knew that some would find the behavior unnerving, but it had the opposite effect on her. Lars, in his own way was soothing, rather like Sasha, a large Russian wolfhound that she had had as a child. There was nothing cute about Lars, of course, but then, there had been nothing cute about her Sasha either. Lars was a powerful being, if a bit rough, but Natalia recalled that his rough nature could be quiet satisfying under the proper circumstances. There was that night in Romania…. She reigned in the wayward thoughts, he’d smell her desire if she let it flare, and this was not the time or place for that!

The protocols are indeed satisfied and I thank you for a pleasant greeting. It has been much too long since I saw you last. Perhaps if you improved your location I would visit more often.

Natalia looked for someplace she might sit and decided that the bare barstool offered the least danger to her suit. She moved to the nearest one, and seated herself as if it were a throne before answering Lars.

What is so urgent? Lars, don’t play the ignorant peasant with me, I’ve known you too long. I’m out looking for answers about the death of the American. I don’t believe it was one of yours but I want your word on it.

I think that we both know where the guilty party is likely to be found, but before I make that unpleasant journey I need the assurance of the clans that I will be supported.

 

[Steiner]

As Natalia walked past him to take a seat, Lars thought he caught a faint whiff of... No... Must have been mistaken. He was suddenly plauged by a recollection of... No... She's got her serious face on, all business now...

What is so urgent? Lars, don’t play the ignorant peasant with me, I’ve known you too long. I’m out looking for answers about the death of the American. I don’t believe it was one of yours but I want your word on it.

Lars felt his hackles rise at her high handed tone, the light picked up in his eyes for a second, and then he mastered himself. In a very correct and polite tone of voice he said "I can assure you, Prince, that I had nothing to do with that incident. As for one of "mine" I AM the Gangrel in this area, thanks to the Sabbat incursions whilst I slept."

He narrowed his eyes at her "I think you know damn well who's behind this - and once you've spoken to all the Primogen, I'm sure we'll be paying the snakes a little visit. I'm behind you for that. Well, in front of you if we play it like in the old days..."

 

[Lady_Kit]

Natalia

I stand corrected, Lars, I know that you were not responsible, and it was insensitive of me to remind you of your losses at the hands of the Sabbat. My apologies for your loss and for any insult.

The apology was difficult for Natalia, she wasn’t used to admitting mistakes, even to herself, but Lars was an old comrade, and as he said, had been part of more than one confrontation with the Sabbat. If she was short with him, it was because he brought out another thing that she found difficult to admit. Lars called to a part of her that no one else did; even now, with so much at stake, she could feel her body begin to quicken with the thought.

I suspect it will turn out much like it did in the old days. Perhaps it has been too long since the Sabbat was put in its’ place. It will be good to act again instead of just talking sometimes I tire of politics. Things were much more simple, and more enjoyable before I took on so many responsibilities.

She gave a small sigh then put her business face back on. She had the answer she needed from Lars, and though she wanted more, she would not ask for it. The Prince did not ask for anything, she ordered, and she would not order Lars to bed her, no matter how much she longed for it. Of all the lovers she had had, during life and death, Lars was a favorite. His nature made sex passionate and intense. Lars had always taken her without regard to clan or rank, as a man takes a woman and never failed to take Natalia away from whatever was happening in her world. Regretfully, she stood to leave, ready to retreat for the day into her suite of rooms at a hotel owned by one of her human enterprises.

Thank you for your assurances Lars. I will send word to you when the Primogen are to meet. Tomorrow night I will see the other clan elders before retuning to the house of Clan Ventrue. Now, the day approaches, and I must get to my rooms before makes travel impossible.

 

[Steiner]

"I'll need to repair those losses, Prince. I formally request your permission to create two new Kindred of my line - to make good some of those losses." He handed her two long right incisors, the cutting teeth of the Vampire. "I offer these to you as payment for the boon - with the promise of more later."

Lars watched Natalia stand to leave, as perceptive as he was of the deeper nature of things, he found she had become more complex since the last time he'd known her.

"Natalia?" he asked as she made her way past him. "Was it worth it? Becoming Prince? Does it please you, as you once hoped it would?"

 

[Lady_Kit]

She accepted his payment with a nod. He could have his new Kindred, she was sure that before this was done they would all be replacing lost clansmen.

His question about her happiness surpirsed her, from anyone else she would have thought it impertinent, but he had been a close companion once. She gave him as honest an answer as she was able.

Is power ever worth the cost Lars? I have done what was expected of me, by my creator and my clan. I can do nothing else.

Natalia stood with her back to Lars, her hand on the door.

Does it please me? Pleasure is found in moonlit forrests, Lars; not in service to the clans.

She moved through the door with the quickness of her kind, climbed into the waiting car and sped away. Had she tears left, she might have shed them then, but she was the Prince, and Princes do not cry.

Take me to shelter, please. Morning approaches.

Soon she would sleep, and tonight she could return to home with the Clan. It would be a brief, but welcome respite before she must confront the Sabbat.