A gamemaster does plenty of work that players take for granted. This account is an effort to unblock my thoughts and record ideas in need of development. Hopefully it will inspire you, the reader. As I unravel my chaotic mind, I will upload texts about matters ranging from probable to impossible. The easiest way to find something interesting/relevant is through the Tags page. I am a non-native English speaker. So assume that there will be grammatical errors in my texts. Currently I host games with the following game systems: Pathfinder Roleplaying System, Call of Cthulhu 7th edition, Shadowrun 4th Edition, World of Darkness (nWoD mixed with GMC) and Sword World 2.0. I dabble in other systems as well and will try to tag them appropriately. I want to thank http://poupon.tumblr.com for creating this picture which I use as my avatar. If you are interested in some of the things I write about, you can always ask for more. Or get some ideas for yourself/clarification on the things I write about. So, Ask me Stuff!
Gender: Heavy Metal Woman
Race: Warforged
Class: Barbarian
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Status: Lending her strength to the struggling survivors stranded on Lamantia.
Current events: Promoted to military officer in charge of training the militia against an upcoming war.
Distinctive features: Skin made out of grey iron. Important joints have vital supporting structures made out of copper and brass. Cendres’ mechanical eyes gleam blue light, and the lack of eyelids make her stare seem unnervingly intense. She lacks the metal alloys that normally are used for structuring hair, but she has intricately crafted copper eyebrows. Her face articulates to portray various feelings, but all these expressions are somewhat lacking in humane emotion.
Cendres dons a brightly polished breastplate, to which two Adamantium shoulder pads are installed. She wears boots and bracers made out of steel. Warforged are not obliged to be concerned about their ‘nether regions’ or be scared of the abrasion to their skin (since they don’t have either), clothing is superficial and usually a fashion statement. Cendres does not care for clothing, apart from a long red cape.
Personality: Cendres is an aggressive, stubborn and inconsiderate woman. If she has a problem with someone, she does not waver to tell them that immediately. She gets easily frustrated if her opinions and experiences are belittled. In her brashness, Cendres is capable of altruism. She is willing to sacrifice herself if the cause sits right with her. A challenge is a welcome change.
When not training, on an excursion or picking up a fight, Cendres polishes her skills in various crafts. She is particularly good at woodworks, and Cendres often makes wooden decorations and other household items when she’s bored. Crafting also helps her nerves and maintains her readiness to when the next battle would arrive. Nothing scares the warforged more than faulty and rusty equipment.
Background: Cendres is an old warforged, crafted nearly 400 years ago. War is her life, and she hates to back down from a fight. Fighting validates her life, but she doesn’t have the words to case her motivations that neatly. The warforged were created against situations which the mortals cannot handle (or get their hands dirty in). They rarely destroy permanently, and are relatively easy to maintain and fix. Cendres has had her core (that houses her soul) compromised only once, but it was a moment full of terror and desperate anguish to her.
In her long life, she has seen kingdoms and sovereigns tumble down to nothingness. Felt first hand as cults sprout, infest, spread their terror and then violently die out. Witnessed the paragons of gods fight against the adversaries of chaos. Peace changes to revolution, which caused strife and conflict. She understand the reason for fighting better than your average mortal, for she has beaten thousands.
Warforged are housed and given life with a soul of a mortal. This process dissipates the original memories that the warforged might have from the life before machinization. Cendres has no memories of her death or on the reasons why should became (or had to become) a warforged. She figures that it has something to do what she did right before her transformation. In time she has found out that elite soldiers, convicts and other dangerous people were chosen, so that they could be controlled and would devote their mechanical lives for a better cause.
Cendres was originally the daughter of a hunter. She trained herself to be a woodcutter and mill worker to support her family. This raised laughs in the village she lived, but her father approved of her brave decision. In time, she mastered wood carving equipment and the axe, and use them with relative ease and efficiency. She became famous for her talents, and traveled the distance to nearby counties and towns on various tasks. But what comes after that, is fuddled in the murky unknown of vague memories.
Author note: Warforged are used in the universe in similar manner than in 3.5 Eberron setting.
Invulnerability Rager Level 12
Str 18, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 11, Cha 10
Warforged are immune to poison, sleep effects, paralysis, disease, nausea, fatigue, exhaustion, effects that cause the sickened condition and energy drain.
A warforged cannot heal naturally, and unlike other constructs warforged are not immune to critical hits, non-lethal damage, stunning, ability damage, ability drain, death effects and necromancy.
As living constructs warforged can be affected by spells that target living creatures as well as those that target constructs. Warforged can be healed by the Cure light wounds and Repair light damage spells however, they are vulnerable to disable construct and harm. However, spells from the healing sub-school and supernatural abilities that restore hit point damage or ability damage provide only half their normal effect. A warforged takes damage from heat metal, chill metal, repel wood, rusting grasp and Repel metal and Stone as if it were wearing metal armour.
Strenuous activity does not risk further injury to a warforged that has dropped to 0 hit points. A warforged can be raised or resurrected. Warforged do not need to eat, sleep or breathe but can still benefit from consumable items.
Warforged also receive a +2 armor bonus but cannot wear robes or armor though, a warforged can be enchanted. Light Fortification (EX) a warforged has a 25% chance of reducing the damage of a critical or sneak attack into a normal hit. Warforged have a natural attack that deals 1d4 damage.
Living Construct: Warforged are living constructs and do not need to eat, drink, sleep or breathe. Composed of stone, metal and wood; physically powerful; come in multiple sizes and designs; an iscription called ghulra can disable material controls and material spell damage
Languages Common Avinthosian Cant, Elven
Barbarian
Greater Rage, Invulnerability 6/-, Extreme endurance 4 (fire resistance), Rage Powers: superstition, disruptive, spellbreaker, guarded life, eater of magic, witch hunter, Fast Movement, Rage
Age: ?
Gender: ? (Assumed male)
Race: ?
Class: ? (Assumed Alchemist)
Alignment: ?
Status: Working as a alchemist in Annor.
Current Events: Investigating a space time rift above the City of Annor.
Distinctive features: Stellio wears a long yellow robe that hides his limbs and body. The hems and sleeves are sullied by ink, alchemical liquids and dirt. Everything he carries, he draws from his sleeves. Stellio has long white leather gloves that hide his hands and squabble even from the smallest of movement. Something heavy swerves under the robe even when Stellio stands still, like he carries an extra limb or tentacle under it.
Stellio hides his face under an oval white face mask. It has three distinct intendations: A slit through which he speaks and two diamond shaped for his eyes. A yellow gleam can be seen behind these diamond shapes.
Under his robe, Stellio has shiny red, scaly skin. His eyes are bright yellow lizard eyes. His shape is upright and really similar to a human, but it is like his skin has been replaced with scales. Sheets of cartilage have taken form on his nose, looking like a set of folded triangles. Spikes of violet and grey stem out of his ears and joints. A long prehensile tongue sticks out of the corner of Stellio’s mouth.
Personality: Stellio is grumpy and cynical. He laughs a lot under his breath, but rarely tries to go out his way to insult people. Most mundane troubles seem menial to him, but he gives cryptic advice to them. He doesn’t like to behave properly, because to him the is no difference between behaving nicely and not at all.
His personality is distant and reserved. If people come to him (which is hardly ever), he listens to their problems and offers his clear cut solutions. Mostly he does the approaching and the talking. He likes to catch people off-guard, because those moments tell him the most about a person.
Background: Stellio’s story is simple: He’s a “humble” alchemist that offers services to every bumbling fool who comes before him. He has no past and no future. He demands random items and objects for his services, and rarely deals in coin. His quarters are neatly arranged: Everything is in its own place, and don’t touch them.
His interest in alchemy borderlines obsession. Social decorum and public decency give way to his ambition. If a combat is in place, he ponders twice whether to participate. More often than not, he deems that the party can handle themselves and he retires himself to the sidelines. Only few understand that there has to be a method to this madness, but no one so far has directly asked him why.
Stellio has a close relationship with Queen Minerva, a militaristic despot who attempts to reunite the reclusive civilizations under one order through force. He pledged his own allegiance to the surrogates just because he could ‘stick it to the Queen’. His hatred of Minerva is palpable; it is as if she had done something irredeemable to him.
The alchemist ended his reclusive life style when a wandering party accidentally found his hideout. He is slowly readjusting to the lively world beyond his own quarters, and feels that he has run and hidden enough for his lifetime.
Alchemist 12
Str 12, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 12, Cha 11
Skills
Appraise +18
Craft +18
Craft +18
Disable Device*† +16
K (Arcana)† +18
K (Nature)† +18
Sleight of Hand*† +16
Spellcraft† +18
Use Magic Device† +15
Age: 23 (claimed)
Gender: Male
Race: Aasimar (disguises as a human)
Class: Antipaladin
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Status: Retired first admiral of the Sandray. Marshal of Annor.
Current Events: Helping the envoy that came to Lamantia to survive and setup a lasting civilization.
Distinctive features: Thibauld has turquoise, wavy long hair which flows down his back. His dark blue eyes gaze at people coldly and intensely. He has a slim but sharp nose. His jawline is strong and his face is wide. Thibauld’s body is tall, well-framed and muscular. He claims to be a sailor by profession, but his skin is really light for a person who has worked under the sun his whole life.
Thibauld enjoys wearing his navy uniform: a dark blue long-coat, dark grey cotton trousers and black, neatly polished boots. Under his coat he has a black vest and natural white collared shirt. As Thibauld resigned from his position as an officer, he also abandoned his cornet.
Personality: Thibauld is a hot-headed person. He likes to run a tight ship and makes sure that everyone else is doing the best of their performance. He has slowly warmed up to other people, and at least tries to take care of them to the best of their interests. But does he truly care for them?
Background: Thibauld is originally from Alemna, a snowy and cold, inhospitable region. He hides his antlers that entail his Aasimar origin, but no one knows exactly why.
Thibauld is a cursed child of an Aasimar couple. His both parents were guardians of the wintry wastes of Alemna. Their birthright was to protect the life on the wasteland, and they fought many deadly strifes together. They retired from active duty after a long campaign against a Banshee Lady that had frozen solid many villages throughout the continent and tormented the common people.
As a last desperate act, the Banshee Lady cursed the couple to ultimate despair: Their firstborn would bring their undoing. They were at disbelief at first, but Thibauld’s mother became gravely ill when she became pregant to Thibauld. Even after Thibauld was born, her strength never returned to her.
Dreary events happened regularly in their home village as Thibauld grew up. The villagers knew of the curse that Thibauld might bear, but he never understood the reason behind their feelings and care. Sympathy triumphed retribution, and Thibauld got off easy when he’d do bad things. His cruelty and sadism grew as he grew bigger.
Thibauld hates religious fervor, like the one that his parents and villagers had. He especially enjoys tormenting and annoying zealots and pious believers. His disgust on people placing their hopes and fates on obscure, larger than life things is immense. The aasimar feels that there exists a peerless anger and disgust wellowing in him, which needs to be let out. But whether this hatred is part of supernatural curse or not is up for everyone to decide.
Through the years Thibauld intuitively learned new methods on how to defile purity and blaspheme religious doctrines. These methods gave him freedom over himself and over dogmas that ruled other people. But simultaneously, he caused suffering, anxiety and physical pain. Many sought for his powers for their own cruel ends, and Thibauld across lands and civilizations to lay down seeds of chaos.
Racial Abilities
Type: Aasimars are outsiders with the native subtype.
Size: Aasimars are Medium creatures and thus have no bonuses or penalties due to their size.
Base Speed: Aasimars have a base speed of 30 feet.
Celestial Resistance: Aasimars have acid resistance 5, cold resistance 5, and electricity resistance 5.
Spell-Like Ability (Sp): Aasimars can use daylight once per day as a spell-like ability (caster level equal to the aasimar's class level).
Darkvision: Aasimar have darkvision 60 ft. (they can see perfectly in the dark up to 60 feet.)
Antipaladin
Aura of evil, detect good, smite good 5/day, touch of corruption 12/day 7d6, unholy resilience, aura of cowardice, cruelty (fatigued, dazed, cursed, stunned), plague bringer, Channel negative energy, Fiendish boon (Summon monster V, fiendish Ankylosaurus), Aura of despair, Aura of vengeance, Aura of Sin
Distinctive features in Mien: Donovan’s Mien is slightly wavering in form, just as like he was some what translucent and delicately tinted in green. His white hair is like extremely fine silk. Tiny spiders skitter alongside his hair, and they sometimes partly wrap Donovan’s face in webbing. Numerous spider’s simple eyes cover Donovan’s face and he has cheliceratas around his mouth. His nose is humane, and it is strong and sloped.
Donovan is a monster-boy in the shape of a spider. His torso and head are human-like, but his form wavers in and out the most from his torso. His hands are lengthy and wiry, and in contrast to his other upper body, remind of spider legs through their features. Donovan’s lower body is similar to a spider’s carapace and he has eight dexterous, slender and long legs. He puts his extra limbs to good use, as he deftly maneuvers them to help him make drinks both in style and quickly.
Donovan always looks like he’s about to doze off. He yawns at regular intervals.
Occupation/Status: Bar owner, Keeper of Lore in the Autumn Court.
Ethnicity: American
Nationality: British
Background: Donovan is an intoxicating dreamer. His hallucinatory behavior draws people in to enjoy his talents: bar tending. To mundane people, his talent in making drinks seem to be unnaturally good. He can shake a mean drink faster than they can say ‘butterscotch’.
Donovan was born in Philadelphia. His childhood was spent in dingy restaurants, bars and barbershops. He tagged along with his father, who told the boy that he helps them in their monetary problems. But the people he helped never seemed to be happy. As an adult Donovan understood that his father was a leg-breaker. After most workdays, his father would come home, smelling weird and being extraordinarily jovial and cheerful. He would get Donovan weird treats and other kitsch. Donovan’s mother just barely seemed to part of his life. She would take care of the boy, but rarely say anything to him. The fondest memory of her was when she caressed Donovan’s cheeks.
Donovan barely made it through high school. His home seemed to be always empty as he got older. His interest in the surrounding world slowly diminished. He spent most of his days locked inside his house, thinking about life and staring at surfaces. Like his father, he got into drinking. But as an underage kid, he had to be careful about it. He would only leave the house in order to perform mischief and petty thefts.
One day, he got caught for stealing booze. Not by the store owner, but by a concerned citizen. As he began chastising uninterested Donovan, the middle-aged man quickly understood that something was wrong with Donovan. He offered to help Donovan instead of yelling at the teenager. Donovan did the trust the stranger, but thought it would be the fast way to get out of this situation.
Unfortunately, that was not the case. His durance was like shock therapy on his binge and thieving habits. He had to steal, prepare and serve drinks for his Keeper day in and day out. He couldn’t get rest for the time of day and hardly got a wink of sleep. Eventually he found himself napping involuntarily and at the same time making cocktails purely by his muscle memory. His arms and legs moved on their own and gathered materials, maneuvered cocktail equipment and served drinks.
After a million cocktails, His Keeper deemed that Donovan had served his sentence and allowed him to leave. However, he demanded that the young boy would not steal ever again. And he would know if Donovan did so. Fearing for his life, Donovan dashed without a second thought. He did not know whether to believe his Keeper threat, and pledged loyalty to Autumn Court in order to get better understanding on the True Fae.
Distinctive features in Mien: Buzzing barfly, gliding from one establishment to another when she has overstayed her welcome. Karlotte’s voice buzzes and stutters, like that she is always drunk. She often finds herself rubbing her hands together like she was plotting something. Karlotte has a hard time settling in one place, and takes her place in all the most odd places she can.
Her mien has bug-like compound eyes, three pigment pits and long feelers. She has human-like mouth, but her tongue is long and curly, similar to a proboscis. Transparent fly wings made out of membrane sprout from her lower back area. They reflect light much like a pearl does.
Occupation/Status: Freeloader.
Ethnicity: German
Nationality: British
Background: Karlotte is like a femme fatale from the old movies. She comes through the door and asks for a cigarette and a fancy drink. Then she batters her eyelids and makes herself known to want some pleasant company. And many people fall for this fly’s simple tricks. Karlotte can make people’s troubles disappear in an instant. She has a harder time picking up changelings however, because most people judge and associate her to regular house flies.
Karlotte is a german immigrant, and moved to Britain because she ‘needed some fresh air’. She hates the cold and wet climate, but enjoys the warm and welcoming people that Britain has. She has never settled for a job, rather than worked for brief periods here and there. She has taken herself to work as a messenger for the Spring Court in Canterbury, working as an official mouth piece of the Court.
Karlotte never talks about her Durance. She usually passed the topic with light hearty jokes or counter questions. It was not a pleasant time for her, and she is now past that part of her life. She is also rather reluctant to speak about her days in Germany (And rest of the Europe). Whether it is for good or worse, she remains a changeling enigma.
Distinctive features in Mien: Thomas carries around a large body of a troll. He often bumps into others and carelessly knocks items off their places. It frustrates him beyond belief, but he tries his best to stay calm and composed. He attempts to break the unkempt ogre stereotype by keeping himself in tiptop cleanly shape. The only time he truly comes alive is when he opens his little book of soul searching, carefully licks his pen and begins to psychoanalyze. A hidden part of himself, sharp, crude and heinous takes a hold of him.
Thomas has raven black hair, which is cut short. His eyes are lukewarm blue, which nervously swerve around the room. He wears small spectacles, which he carefully adjusts with his big, stubby fingers. He wears clean clothing every day, and hates it when they get smudges and stains.
Occupation/Status: Therapist. Iceclad Amiger of the Winter Court.
Ethnicity: German American
Nationality: American
Background: Thomas Kaufmann is a man who is easily overlooked among the changeling. And this is not because of his size, because his troll body makes him easily stand out. It is because he is rarely seen: the man rarely exits his mundane abode or the Winter Court properties inside the Los Angeles Freehold. Not that he minds that no one remembers him; on the contrary, it makes his job easier. He works in the Freehold as the one and only official therapist.
Thomas has lived an uninteresting life all around. His room was always empty, his class mates at school barely interacted with him and his life had a stable direction towards being average. Most of his activities were left unfinished, because something else would come up when he was just about finish. Thomas did not know any better, so just drifted through his life. There was no pain, because he could not understand the concept of it.
His durance came to when his Keeper accidentally physically knocked over him when he could barely be called a teenager. The lady was upset at Thomas, but Thomas just stared at her dumbstruck. The Fae quickly grasped the situation and demanded that Thomas pay for his insolence. The young boy disagreed with the lady, but agreed to help her none the less. A break in ever-repeating pattern in blandness had happened, but what was the cost of it all?
His Keeper wanted to properly train him, and form him into an actual boy. He thought that Thomas was much like a Pinocchio, lacking understanding and motivation to come to life. So she fed him, and trained him, and fed him and trained him. Thomas changed physically from a scrawny kid to a pudgy troll. Thomas had to clean up her house and follow her every whim. And there were many rules and whims. Very, very many.
Then one day (if you have those at Arcadia), his keeper let him go. To live and learn in the world beyond her domain. Thomas had become durable, docile and ever so hungry. He had all forgotten about mortal troubles and worries, and they seemed to come back to him, piece by piece. He began to feel emotions that he had never felt before. Loneliness, sorrow, happiness, anger and self-loathing. And these feelings puzzled him. Made him grow interested in the small and the mundane.
NPC November #18: Mamoru Kuwamori (Werewolf the Forsaken)
November 18th: The Yajyu Shrine Pack Leader
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Type: Werewolf
Blood: The Fox
Bone: Wallflower
Auspice: Elodoth
Tribe: None
Distinctive features: Mamoru is an energetic man getting older by the day. His hard physical labor keeps him in good shape. He doesn’t have a taste for expensive foods or sugary treats either, as he eats traditional Japanese treats and cuisine. He finds Western trends odd and complicated. His smile is gentle, but usually hides his stupidity and inability to understand. His grey eyes are often full of sorrow, and he scratches his head when he’s troubled.
Mamoru dresses casually, even in formal events. He often wears jeans and loose t-shirts. His rebellious spirit is revealed through his insensitivity to inconvenient traditions. However, his respect for the dead is immense and overwhelming. The dead are hallow.
Occupation/Status: Construction worker. Yajyu Shrine Pack Leader.
Ethnicity: Japanese
Nationality: Japanese
Background: Mamoru never truly understood his fate until he underwent his change. His family and kin were all werewolves or at least wolf-blooded, and lived in a peaceful, secluded town in Northern Japan. Children were forbidden to move alone at night and warned to approach any wild animals without adult supervision. Only during the eve of his adulthood, he finally understood the reasoning behind all lessons and restrictions the elders imposed upon their young.
Mamoru is destined for great things by the moon and the stars. His village elder foresaw his fate, and through his instructions, Mamoru has put through a school of hard knocks. He wasn’t a particularly good student, but families decreed him to become a builder and smith for the whole community. He was not given a choice on the matter. His rebellious spirit was tamed through dominance and ridicule.
It was according to the wishes of the elders that he had to move to Tokyo. A pack leader had died in mysterious circumstances, and Mamoru was the one to restore the pack and their territories. The pack was a bunch of teenagers, wanting to lead their lives normally. Mamoru felt sorry for the kids. They had no idea what life with have in store for them.
NPC November #17: Jacques dos Santos (Changeling the Lost)
November 17th: Right Hand of the Verdant Queen.
Age: 37
Apparent Age: 23
Gender: Male
Type: Changeling
Virtue: Faith
Vice: Envy
Seeming: Beast (Windwing/Succubus Dualkith)
Court: Spring
Distinctive features: Jacques is a bird-human hybrid. His head and torso coincide the magnificent frigate bird, with large scarlet throat pouch and all. His black plumage glimmers beautifully. Feathers run down the back of his neck and back, creating a mane out of these feathers. Feathers also spring out of his folds. His nails are strong and durable like the talons of a predatory bird. His eyes are turquoise, and it is easy to mistake his glances as envious stares.
Jacques has a strong body type. His muscles are well-formed and imposing, as he takes great pride in his arduous work to maintain them. His body movements are fast, and he enjoys to pull dramatic poses. He wears revealing clothing to maximize his own sex appeal, and draws people into him.
Occupation/Status: Runway model.
Ethnicity: Native American
Nationality: American
Background: Jacques was born in Nevada. His childhood was closely spent with his family and kin. All he can remember are fond and warm memories. He reminisces them as the good old by-gone days. Time and time again Jacques reminds himself: All good things must come to an end.
Jacques can remember that he was taken by force to Arcadia. He was still in his early teens by the time his abduction occurred. He had to serve as a set-piece animal in a larger collection of animal like changelings. And even to this day, Jacques hates to visit zoos or other places where animals are held captive.
The world had rapidly changed in the time he was away. His family and kin had both lost and gained in land ownership and economic status. He saw strife, prejudice and greed. His childhood home was nowhere to be found. He was distant and disgusted to materialistic gain. He needed culture, inner peace and enlightenment. He set his eyes on California, and hoped to find peace of mind there.
His current name, Jacques, is clearly a part of a fake identity. His ambitions are to find a new family and forge close bonds with similar spirited minds. Jacques embraces his new form, but dislikes most of the other changelings in his Freehold. They seem to spend their changeling lives idly by, never attempting to reach glory or fame. Especially strong is his hatred against the Winter Court and their cowardice. Jacques has strong passions and ambitions, as he is close to breaking through in his modeling career.
Distinctive features in Mien: A chilling wind blows wherever Karylja is present. It seems to work in unison with her moods: when Karylja is mad, light objects move around and other people feel a pressure surmounting against them. Her arms and legs are semi-transparent, like cartoonish breaths of wind. Her face is pale and round. Her raven black hair is permanently swiped against her head, running down her back but raising up and down by the air currents. Her eyes are hazel, much like the autumn season. Her irises mimic the motions of falling leaves.
Karylja wears a long brown scribe’s robe, which constantly flutters about in the wind. She carries her notes, quill and ink pot around to everywhere, in case she needs to quickly write something down.
Occupation/Status: Author. Caretaker of the Ashen Court Archives.
Ethnicity: Polish American
Nationality: American
Background: Karylja claims that she was able to see supernatural entities since she was a child. This would explain her morbid curiosity of the realms beyond the world of the mortals. As a child, she kept picture diaries about her weird encounters. This odd investment in monsters did not sit well with her parents, nor children at school. Many of her diaries were burned or torn by the non-believers, says Karylja. This persecution did not make her want to back down, but rather made her ever vigilant and stalwart as an investigator of the unknown.
It was her curiosity that got her to current supernatural situation. She met a being that claimed to be extraordinarily supernatural. It promised to show it to her, given that she would follow the stranger. She pondered on her chance, but her eager foolishness won. Thus she became trapped to spend her years with her Keeper.
Her durance was to be a personal assistant for her Keeper, so she worked in a position similar to a stagehand. Her Keeper wanted drama and vibrant mesmerism in their entrances and exits. Thus it would be beneficial if Karylja would have the powers to rustle the surroundings and bring forth dramatic gusts of wind. Or create unnatural sound effects. Or enforce dramatic lighting. She would also recite the Keeper’s lines, in case she forgot them or her mouth wandered off.
Karylja misses her times of durance, but only for a moment. It was hard work, far beyond the understanding of a mortal. But through her durance she instinctively learned to be a busybody. Resolving the mysteries of the powers of the Fae and changelings keep her busy at the Freehold. She scours through new mythological articles, but also writes her own. Some of her encyclopedias have been published (with the permission of the Autumn King) in the mortal world. But Karylja knows to keep the facts hidden from prying mortal eyes, so she mixes up some of the tales and hides the truths.
Distinctive features: Xandra has long hazel hair, which she often ties to a ponytail. She has a tall body, and manual labor keeps her slim but muscular. She has an all-knowing smile, which is easy to misinterpret as smugness. Her perceptive blue eyes scan all the small details into her good memory. She is particularly good at noticing small things left unnoticed otherwise.
Xandra does not care to dress neatly. She wears overalls while she works, and jeans and sleeveless tops alongside hoodies on her spare time. Her style is messy, as splotches of grease, blood from her cuts and dirt cover her clothes. She cleans after herself when she has the time and energy.
Occupation/Status: The Custodian of the Bullwark Apartments
Ethnicity: ?
Nationality: American
Background: Xandra is an international woman of mystery. She is handy, maybe a little too handy her own sake. She is no stranger to mechanical tools, machines, maintenance work and firearms. She likes to keep her past and private life like that, hidden from John Q. Public.
What is known about the woman is that she is a custodian (and groundskeeper) of a peculiar apartment house in Inglewood. She is highly punctual and pragmatic about her work, but keeps her nose out of her tenants lives. But she will never turn down a hapless tenant looking for help, or company. Unbeknownst to her (maybe) she has a whole slew of supernaturals living in her apartment building. The apartments themselves seem to radiate an aura of obscurity, like people seem to forget that it exists.
Xandra boasts about how she likes to help the local law enforcement on the grizzly events that happen around town. She loves thrillers and murder mysteries. She keeps a large collection on the past crimes that have occurred in the city in big folders. She collects newspaper articles and writes personal notes in these files. Her life experiences seem to grim, as she has little sympathy for the dead.
Distinctive features: Diego is a bald young Nosferatu. His vampire skin hasn’t settled yet properly and tightly against his skull, so his big cheeks shape his lower face. His yellow eyes reflect envy, and sometimes pity. His nose slants upwards, and is sharp and small. Tufts of grey hair extend outwards from his ears.
Diego prefers easy to wear, loose clothing. He is most often seen sneaking around and working with his lean body to do all kinds of acrobatics and stunts. His hoodie hides his bloodline from both vampires and mortals. He is a devout of Lancea Sanctum, as a distinguishable black cross can be seen hanging from his neck.
Occupation/Status: Devout of Lancea Sanctum. Bloodhound of Santa Monica.
Ethnicity: Hispanic American
Nationality: American
Background: Diego was born a poor family living in Mexico. They traveled to America in search of better life when he was but a small child. The American Dream did not come by easily for the family, and Diego saw poverty and maltreatment when he grew up. Eventually the streets became a better family for him.
Diego delved into the life of crime long before he became an adult. The peaceful 70s had turned into crazy 80s. Drugs were rampant, and Diego made a profit trafficking and selling drugs around Los Angeles. He had just turned 21 when was turned at the eve of his birthday party.
His sire was a vicious Nosferatu named Thorn. He had had his eye on Diego for a while. Thorn was interested in Diego’s talents, but hated the boy’s naivety and inflated ego. His harsh lesson for the boy was ‘patience, stalwartness and ruthlessness’. Sire’s lessons paid off, but mainly for Diego: He killed his sire in cold blood.
As Diego became free from the tyranny of his sire, his mind and body became empty. He stumbled upon a vampire priest named Renoir D’Antonio. The priest took Diego under his wings and taught him the ways of Lancea Sanctum. Diego’s journey is just beginning, as the steps of the Lancea Sanctum are hard and arduous for the kindred. Renoir backed Diego to be the Bloodhound of the vampire court of Santa Monica. And to everyone’s great surprise, Prince Cedric agreed to place the young boy as the new Bloodhound.
Distinctive features: Lucas is a dark, tall and handsome fellow. His long black hair sways with movement, and works in his favor when leaving a lasting first impression. He has a distinct jawline and high cheekbones. His gaze is compassionate as he watches other people with warm brown eyes. His smile is shy, but shows his clean white teeth just for that sudden moment of joy.
His slim features allow him to wear all kinds of clothing and to experiment with fashion. He likes to wear clothing of light colors, like pastel colors or white. He likes cotton, and employs it to the fullest extent. Regardless of his interest in light colors, his shoes are always pitch black. He always attempts to dazzle his company, and likes to try modern and new innovations.
Occupation/Status: Harpy of Los Angeles. Music Producer.
Ethnicity: Hispanic American
Nationality: American
Background: Music has been part of Lucas’s life for as long as he can remember. Streets were filled with music, and it is no surprise why: He grew up in the festival city of the USA, New Orleans. He carries the life of partying with him wherever he goes. He dislikes the quiet moments, and is constantly thinking about ways of turning small occasions to large events. There is no celebration too little to him.
Even though his family and kin was poor, he shared a tight bond of belonging with the rest of the city and its folk. In somber times, he felt the grace of others, and in high times, he learned to share and care. He went to church to learn and experience. It was at church that he came upon music. From the first time he heard New Orleans swing, he wanted to become a musician
Lucas had become a prominent jazz musician before he joined the Kindred. Sure, he wasn’t as talented as Armstrong or Morton, but he knew his way with the swing. He was a regular artist at the Storyville, earning a decent buck for his performances. It wasn’t long before he learned the pleasures of alcohol and sex as well.
Lucas’ embrace came to with a bang. A station wagon transporting him and the band he played at the time crashed on a lonesome country road during the twilight hours. He heard screams coming from the front and dashed into the wilderness, feeling scared out of his mind. The dank and humid forest played tricks with his mind, and he began to hum and sing quietly to calm his nerves. His tranquil singing attracted his sire, Malcolm Passebon, to his location. The vampire took pity on the man, and welcomed him as his new progeny.
Malcolm and Lucas reveled in vampirism. They were not the kind to fall into depression because they had become the creatures of the night. They were mostly able to keep themselves at check, but there are known massacres throughout the 20th century. They rode from county to county, finding work and shelter as artists. They shirked at the atrocities happening around them, mostly because they were ‘problems of the mortals’. It took the death of his sire to steer Lucas into a road of sanity (and inner torment).
Lucas holds no clear allegiances. His talents are in entertaining the mortals. This particular trait has earned him the position of Harpy in the larger California area. He knows how to cover his tracks, and works his best to the keep the kindred hidden from the mortal eyes. In Lucas’s mind, vampirism sets men and women free, but this blessing should not be given to just anyone.
Distinctive features: Rosanne is a tall and well shaped woman. She is known for her obsession over her own beauty. She takes good care of her luscious eye lashes, delicate lips and well maintained fingernails. Her lush blonde hair create an aura of mystery around Rosanne, mostly because it often hides either one of her eyes. Her orange eyes beam prosperity and indulgence.
No matter what the situation is, Rosanne likes to dress up in revealing outfits. This can be either skin-tight or loose and baggy, as long as it shows off skin. Fashion-wise Rosanne has not left the 1920s. Her boldness puts the original flapper look to shame, as most of the cloths are mostly or at the least semi-transparent. She puffs smoke from an ivory cigarette holder, and fully enjoys the fact that smoking cannot kill her.
Occupation/Status: The Prince of Los Angeles
Ethnicity: Dutch American
Nationality: American
Background: Rosanne claims that her heritage dates back to the Scandinavian vikings, but most vampires doubt that claim. Church records tell that she was born to a dutch merchant family living in the New World. Her childhood was heavy with labor and chores. She holds her embrace to be a massive stroke of luck. It set her free. Free of responsibilities, free of mundane drivel and free of death and mortal suffering. Few are the times when she regretted that she became a vampire.
Rosanne does not hold masquerade in high value. Her trail of blood letting has left so much evidence of her sprees that it becomes hard to get a clear picture of what’s going on. But on many occasions, Rosanne has proven herself to be stronger than the persecution hunting her. She has a bad rep in various vampire courts all over the country. And yet every time there has been some kind of force preventing those vampires to sentence her to Final Death.
Rosanne is some what counter revolutionary to your average vampire stereotype. She likes convenience and quickly adapts to new technology. She took part in many cultural movements throughout America’s rowdy history, in order to reap a portion of the profits from those movements.
Miss Eikenbloom arrived in the Orange County in the 1980s. Soon after, Rosanne was instated as the Prince of Los Angeles as a political move by the Elders. This insane move resulted in massive backlashes. But her choice was made in a time of turmoil for Los Angeles vampire court. Three Princes had died within the decade. Whatever the reasoning of the Elders were, Rosanne became a celebrity overnight.
Rosanne Eikenbloom wears the masculine title with pride, and likes to remind other vampires that she is in fact, the Prince. Many have questioned the political move, but no open moves have been made against Rosanne. She lives for the social danse macabre which the vampires are required to pull off in order to coexist. She comes up with all kinds of excuses to hold a special night at an Elysium, and expects everyone to show their faces.
Distinctive features: .Murad is a short man of Arabian descent. He is well-built, and his tight clothing show evidence of his muscle mass. He has black curly hair, which is cut short. Tufts of black hair cover Murad’s muscular chin. His sharp nose and poise interest into things happening around him give off an impression that the man has sharp wits. His yellow eyes shine full of curiosity, but his interest is most often benevolent and kind. Murad smiles a lot, because he holds it to be a sign of good behavior.
Murad likes to wear tight clothing, like skin-tight shirts and jeans, as well as loose collared shirts and shirts. He dons heavy jewellery, and always wears his lucky charm golden necklace.
Occupation/Status: The Sheriff of Los Angeles
Ethnicity: Turkish
Nationality: American
Background: Murad is a genuine castrato from the times when Istanbul was still referred as Constantinople. He has slumbered in torpor many times over the centuries, but as a mortal, he was successful artist and had major influence over matters back in the day, in the 17th century. As he was castrated at a young age, his growth was stumped during his puberty. But he has come in terms with his stature, and has trained hard to blow heavy punches when violence is the only solution.
Before and after his transformations, Murad traveled all over the Europe in order to perform at various courts and festivities. He became well versed in various cultures, art, literature and social decorum. His keen interest in things extraordinaire is put to great use even today.
Murad’s sire was a wealthy Venitian noble named Mariana da Vigonovo. She fell in love with Murad. Murad’s uncanny performances and talent to entertain, no matter the situation, attracted her well enough to bestow the curse of vampirism upon the castrato. Murad holds the gifts of eternal thirst and undead life in high value, as he gets to learn more about the world around him. To him, the worst things in life is boredom and inability to enjoy the fruits of one’s labor.
Murad has many tales to tell, and likes to share them with others over glasses of blood. He has been part of many vampire courts, seen rises and downfalls of vampiric idealism. He is a man of tradition and trusts only the things which he can gauge with his own eyes. He loathes the Fog of Memory, and has learned to write lengthy journals about his everyday life.
At the moment, Murad works as the Sheriff in the volatile vampire court of Los Angeles. His talents of coaxing and asture perception are highly valued by anyone, and he does not hold strong allegiances even though is belongs to the Covenant Invictus. He has seen many Princes come and go in the last decade, but all of them have valued Murad’s pragmatic approach to unlife’s problems.
NPC November #10: Mordecai Banner (Vampire the Requiem)
November 10th: The Chessmaster of the Inner Covenants
Name: Mordecai Banner
Age: ?
Apparent Age: 68
Gender: Male
Type: Vampire
Virtue: Patient
Vice: Pride
Clan: Architect of the Monolith
Covenant: Prima Invicta
Distinctive features: The long man hunches slightly, and is often seen walking along with the help of his ashen-wood cane. His grip is strong, as his motions can be heard when he wraps his hand around the cane tightly. His long nails burrow into the wood, leaving heavy indentations He stares intently at people with his cold, yellow eyes. A long nose balances the face and works to hide a terrifying scowl that the man is known to show from time to time. His archaic age is chiseled on his skin, as it is pulled tightly against his bones and shows signs of detrition.
Mordecai’s long gray hair is swiped backwards along his head and left hanging on the man’s back. He likes to wear an ascot, which has visible stains of blood spilled on it. His heavy coats scuffle with his movements and his heavy boots loudly announce his presence to whoever is in the same room as he is.
Occupation/Status: The Ventrue Primogen of Los Angeles
Ethnicity: ?
Nationality: American
Background: Very little is known about the origin of Mordecai Banner. Obviously, that is not his real name. Some people say that he was a feudal lord, because his bold actions and manners give away his regal position. Others argue that he was a corrupt politician, like the ones from the time of early Athens. Actual historical descriptions and diaries have dated him back to the early 15th century, but the evidence is vague and sometimes lacking objective proof. Whatever the case might be, Mordecai is one slippery weasel.
Mordecai usually makes light conversation about his past during formal events and dinner parties, but the evidence is very contradictory. He has said that he has been both a peasant and a noble, worked as a criminal as well as a constabulary, and spread chaos and restored order. And the worst part is that he always seems sincere about his actions and morals. His facade is impeccable, but yet so easily distinguished.
Mordecai likes to meddle in every affair that he can get his hands on. His past associates fidget nervously when his name is spoken out loud like he is an unnameable shadowy figure. Most often he offers his tremendous aid in the participant’s cause. More often than not, other vampires smell the rotten fish and decline his help. Vampires are right to fear Mordecai’s influence, but when Mordecai’s interests are attracted to a cause, things will soon start to fall apart.
Mordecai is known to be a major shareholder in numerous corporations. He mostly acts through mock investment fronts and his numerous pawns. He’s known to be a generous person, but always working an angle. He knows hold to get a hold of anyone in and out his city. Vampires who conspire against him use this knowledge as much as they can. But so far (and attempts date back numerous centuries) he has been proven to be unstoppable. His adversaries thought to have stopped Mordecai for good during the 19th century civil war in America. But he resurfaced a century later, never forgetting his true conspirers and spewing vengeance upon them.
Distinctive features: Olivia travels around in a mechanical wheelchair. Her limbs seem frail and powerless, but this is only a ruse. She can move quite swiftly, catching people easily off-guard. Her body is thin but tall, and bestows Slavic beauty. Her green eyes instill fear but Olivia spends most of her time smiling, thus creating a sense of unease upon the viewer. She wears her hair tightly high up and has heavy make-up to disguise her anemic complexion. When she has fed, she eerily resembles a porcelain doll. Her hands move with aristocratic grace, and she is highly talented with parlor tricks. She has well-maintained sharp fingernails.
Olivia likes to dress in historical dresses from her home country. They are heavy and colorful. Olivia wears corsets with ease, one of the perks of being undead. She has elegant jewels, like massive rings and heavy necklaces.
Occupation/Status: The Hermit of the Forgotten Mansion.
Ethnicity: Russian
Nationality: American
Background: Olivia was born into a royal family of the Russian aristocracy. Her childhood was filled with warm memories, but they were overshadowed by tragic events. Most of her younger brothers and sisters died when they were young. Even Olivia was a frail child, but she alone survived into adulthood. Because her household was filled with morbid tragedies, her parents wanted to take Olivia’s mind off the mishaps of life. She was taught well, as she had personal tutors from all over the central Europe. She fell in love with literature and classic music.
With the years growing her older, she was more often alone than not. Her father perished on the battlefield. Olivia never married, which went against her mother’s wishes. She never grew an actual interest in boys. Sure, she was courted and even sometimes attended royal balls. But she was cold and distant to most people. Her disinterest in people earned her ridicule and mock names from the other aristocrats. Her true friends were the female mentors and tutors from abroad. They would shower her with homecoming gifts and fill the house with laughter and cheering banter.
Olivia’s household was struck with grief when her mother died. Her life spiraled into chaos, because she was unable to take care of the mansion by herself. She became unwell and lost her appetite. She couldn’t pay her staff, so most of them resigned. To pay for the upkeep of the house, she sold most of her family heirlooms. Eventually the mansion became like a haunted house, with empty corridors and bare rooms. When her health deteriorated for the final time, she had to leave the house, with the help of her personal servant, and check into a hospital.
Olivia knew she would die soon. Her pains grew by the day. She spent most of her day drugged, barely able to move a muscle. When she refused her medicine, the orderlies were flabbergasted and spew obscenities at her angrily. Olivia wanted to die on her own terms, so she would bear with the pain and asked for a rolling chair.
In a particularly odd twist of fate, she met a young anemic girl named Anka at the hospital. They became dear friends as Olivia’s days were dwindling away. Olivia would read her story books and fairy tales, but often edited the stories to fit in her new acquaintance. The girl called her out on her new renditions of the classic tales, but she seemed happy rather than angry about it. Oddly enough, the girl seemed to take pity on Olivia: an old woman standing at the death’s door. But dying is a natural part of life to the older woman. It was an inevitability. Or so she would thought it to be.
One night Olivia woke up from a cold slumber. She couldn’t feel her pulse and her pain had subsided, but she was still unable to move properly. The world was burning and ringing around her, and she thought that the Day of Reckoning had come to Earth. Her new friend, Anka, stepped up to her, covered in blood and torn rags. Before she could properly understand it, Olivia was filled with a strange hunger that welled up screaming inside her when she saw the girl. Anka taught Olivia on how to deflect her sense of shame and revel in the eternal hunger.
Anka and Olivia left the hospital together. They traveled to west and hid in small counties and towns, garnering pity and love from the local folk as their guise. Even though Olivia was but beginning to understand the eternal struggle, she loved and lived with her sire happily. That is, until they were separated by the beginning of 19th century.
Olivia was struck with morbid grief in her sudden loss. She went on a rampage of violence in order to feel something else than heartbreak. Her slew of murders broke the masquerade, which in turn made her catch interest of other vampires. She was brought to justice and made accountable for jeopardizing the kindred. As retribution, she was placed upon house arrest. It was during this time of punishment Olivia finally snapped.
NPC November #8: Cedric Léonard (Vampire The Requiem)
November 8th: The Jubilant Prince of Santa Monica
Name: Cedric Léonard
Age: over 200 years old
Apparent Age: 36
Gender: Male
Type: Vampire
Virtue: Hopeful
Vice: Greed
Clan: Ventrue
Covenant: Invictus
Distinctive features: Well groomed, blonde short hair. Light green eyes that glimmer joy at one moment and stern judgment at the next. Cedric’s features are slim and suave, even what could be considered borderline anorexic. This amplifies the effect which his strong jawline has on his habitus. Cedric does not look tough, but when gets the taste for blood, he becomes highly unpredictable. He often twirls his locks around with his long, bony forefingers.
Cedric enjoys wearing old-fashioned suits and accessories of the bygone centuries. He often wears light-colored clothing, like natural white and yellow. Most of his suits are antique and authentic designer items.
Occupation/Status: The Prince of Santa Monica. Stock investor.
Ethnicity: French American
Nationality: American
Background: Son of an impoverished land owner. Cedric was born into wealth and splendor. His father owned vasts strips of land in Mississippi, and thus the boy grew up in luxury and prosperity. Parties and feasts filled the mansion with laughter and gossip. Through structure and discipline, he came greatly accustomed with the formalities and social decorum. But his common knowledge was particularly lacking. His blue eyes never fully understood the struggles of the common people in 18th century. Not that his mother would even let him worry his head on mundane matters.
Cedric grew up to be a lawyer, as their family appreciated high education (but never really understanding what it really meant). He was not a particularly good attorney due to his lazy attempts to reconvene, but his family name earned him more than a few disputes to settle. And as Cedric grew older, there seemed to be more and more quarrels to be settled. A worrisome spiral of violence grew all throughout the Americas.
The American effort for independence struck chords of discontent and hope in the air. The Spanish had driven the British away from the Mississippi land, but the British forces retaliated and were on the move due South. War loomed upon the common people and aristocracy alike. By the end of the 18th century, Cedric was married and grew up children at a mansion of his own. It was during this time he was embraced.
His sire was a scheming and manipulative vampire named Mordecai Banner. Mordecai had much to gain form the Peace of Paris, and wanted to increase his influence when America was reforming and eventually united under one nation. His sire treated and taught Cedric like he was but one of his many successors and pawns. Cedric’s transformation left him scarred with mental torment and desperate struggle to survive. Mordecai took part in many American trials and tribulations, using his pawns all throughout the America. Cedric had to become the worst version of his lonesome self.
Then Mordecai suddenly vanished. Cedric went through a rough century of personal introspection and lamentation. The world was rapidly changing around him, and he tried his best to cope and change with it. He learned to invest in land and property (much like his original father). Slowly but surely Cedric garnered prestige and status. His undead life was on the right track towards wealth and self-satisfaction. Until his sire returned unannounced.
