World of Darkness

Varro Kessler

He frantically made his way back to their hotel room. He stepped in the room, closed the door behind him and leaned against it, panting and looking about the room for his things. He was out of breath and partially still in a panicked state of being. As he glanced about he couldn’t help, but look at his partners things and feel guilty. As far as he knew he was the only one who had made it out of that ally on Bardstown Road alive. He had just watched the Seth Bullock, the Vatican’s own Left Hand of God, get his throat ripped out by the vampire they had been tracking. He would pack his things and leave this city for good.
Matthew Anger was a member of an elite team of vampire hunters. His team, lead by Seth Bullock, were on the trail of a vampire that Seth believed was fronting a tobacco plant on 7th St. They had followed the target, who was accompanied with three other individuals, in to a back alley. The head Vampire Slayer, Douglas Robertson made the call to engage them; his arrogance would be his downfall for he was killed by the Barghest, Arthur Doyle. When he saw Seth murdered and Douglas eaten by some sort of hell hound the feeling of dread sunk into Matthew deeper than any parasite could ever penetrate a host. He fled to the streets and ran all the way back to room 64 of the In- town Suites. As he was frantically shoving his clothes into a small black, leather suitcase Matthew was unaware of the being within the room watching him with great amusement. It would be so easy for this being to snap the mortals neck and claim his blood, but what would be the sport in that. All children lose the thrill of squashing bugs at an early age and Varro Kessler was over 200 years old. He enjoyed playing with his victims. At the moment however he wasn’t viewing this particular individual as a victim, but more as a tool to be molded. It was true he had followed Matthew into the hotel room to feed upon him, but he paused as he considered the wonderful cohort the man could make.
As Varro peered down at Matthew form the ceiling his excitement turned his eyes blood red and he thought back to when he was embraced. He was given no choice, hunted like an animal and forced into a cemetery. His sire had brought him before other vampires and their future progeny. All of them, including himself were scared to death. There they all stood, barely dressed, freezing in the October night. Thinking back he could still feel the breeze and hear its mournful cry. He peered down before him where several open graves were waiting next to several open coffins. One of the men begged and pleaded to be let go and he was promptly killed. The rest of the captives were fed upon until they were unconscious. When Varro awoke he was in a state of semi-consciousness inside a coffin buried beneath the surface and he was bombarded with hallucinations. The hallucinations twisted his former life and the more he believed in them the more he was driven further away form humanity. He clawed and dug his way out of the coffin and up through the cold, hard dirt. When he was free of his impromptu prison he was greeted by a Sabbat grave watcher who promptly knocked him out with a shovel. He awoke again, but this time within a dark chamber with the other captives. It was there he took part in the creation rites and was fed human blood for the first time.

“Leaving so soon?” Varro said as he floated down behind Matthew. The man turned on Varro with a pistol, but it was easily knocked aside. “Do you not enjoy the Derby City and the finery it has to offer?” Sleeking ever so slightly closer to Matthew as he spoke. Matthew tried to back away, but had nowhere to go. “Relax, I am not here to harm you, else you would already be dead.” “Then what do you want?” Matthew visibly stammered. “You are going to become that which you have hunted. You have knowledge which I require and it is your usefulness that will keep you alive for quite some time if utilized properly, maybe even for eternity.” Varro snickered at the last part. “I would never..”Matthew started to say, but was interrupted by a horrible grimace upon Varro’s face. His fangs bared and he seemed to take on much more of a threat than previously seemed. Something far greater than dread gripped Matthew and he froze in fear. He felt a slight prickle sensation as the fangs penetrated his neck and the blood was sucked from his veins. At first he fought hard against the man who was shorter than him, but he could not break free from his grip. Eventually he began to enjoy it and just before Matthew’s life left him Varro stopped himself and dropped him upon the blood soaked floor. He wiped his mouth clean with the bed sheet and grabbed the body. With ease he tossed it onto his shoulders and hopped out of the window never looking back. When Matthew Anger awoke next he would be a vampire bonded with a Tzimisce and he would be the hunted.

The Story of St. Joseph Church

No one knew that below St. Joseph’s Catholic Church a cult had long ago raised a chapel in the name of another God. When the good people of Butchertown came to church on Sunday they had no idea that beneath them was a place of sinister worship.
Matt, Jon, Tracy, Chris, Blake and Frank slowly descended the stairs they had found hidden in a secret passageway which branched off the inner sanctum. As they reached the bottom of the steps Tracy looked on in horror at the macabre sight. They had walked into a sanctuary which looked like the opposite of the chapel above. The worship of Christianity didn’t come to mind when one looked upon this dark, horrific cathedral. The ceiling was domed shaped and tiled with an image of a squid like creature, staring down at the floor and covered in tentacles. The only light offered in the room was candle light which left more shadows to dance about than light itself. No pews existed and a stone altar seemed to be the main décor, dried blood stains slowly crept down its sides. The feeling of dread consumed the place.
It was there in the shadows that Grandmaster Tirelle stood at the altar where he had been preparing to make an offering to his god, Cthulhu. He was prepared for the intruders when they came for not only had he heard them advancing down the stairs, but he had been informed through an augury that they would come and pose a threat to the church.
Matt was the first to enter and before he could act Tirelle was already casting a spell to summon a powerful creature from another world. At first it appeared no more than a shadow, but within a moment it materialized into a hideous gaunt creature with gray skin and covered in oozing sores that leaked a white fluid. Two long tentacles flailed beneath its arms looking for a victim to grab. The monster itself had long fangs and sharp claws which made Matt want to keep his distance. He ran around the creature and to the priest where he used his powers of domination.
“You will call this creature off!” Matt shouted in raised tones. The priest smiled as he responded.
“I cannot.”
Disappointed in the response Matt drew out his short sword and dagger and turned on the monster which was creeping his way. Tirelle covered himself in a magic web which offered him some protection from the attacks that would surely follow.
Blake took a position in the chapel with his rifle as did Tracy with her magic bow. Jon began throwing magical, kinetic blast at the summoned creature while Frank charged in with a devastating blow that would have felled any living man. Chris wanted most of all to speak with this priest who could have information valuable to him. He ran for the priest and offered parlay instead of a fight, but Tirelle had something else in mind.
“You will fight for me” Tirelle said as he pointed his finger at Chris. Most men would have succumbed to the magical domination spell, but Chris was able to will it off with ease. As Tirelle turned back, Matt was before him.
“No, you will fight for us. Now destroy that beast you have summoned!” Matt commanded.
Tirelle never had the chance. Jon, Frank, Blake and Tracy had already destroyed the monster. Pieces of it ran down Frank’s torso and a puddle of gooey black substance pooled at his feet. Frank lifted his boot looking at the substance that nearly bonded him to the floor.
“Ehh,” he muttered.
The fight was over and Matt was able to use his powers to trick the priest into thinking they were his friends. This allowed Chris the time to question him. What they discovered was that a cult had existed here and had been committing heinous deeds for quite some time in the name of an outer god called Cthulhu. Also in the basement with them was a torture chamber and an even deeper basement which was flooded and inhabited by something Tirelle called a chaos beast. He presented Chris with a green book called the Coming of Yog Sothoth.
“This will have the answers you seek.” Tirelle said.
When he was sure that Chris had all the information he needed and they had the whereabouts of the other cultist Matt pounced on the priest and drank him dry.
Tracy turned her head in disgust. Jon, all though a vampire himself, placed a hand on her shoulder. He wished to drink as well, the smell of blood was enticing, but he did not wish to offend her.
“We have to destroy this place.” She said to Jon.
“I was thinking that myself. We could burn it to the ground.” Jon replied.
“We cannot just burn this historic church to the ground.” Matt said while wiping his mouth clean and standing up. “It would draw far too much attention to all of this and all of us!”
“This church is evil!” Tracy said. “It is tainted and if we do not destroy it more will come to worship here. And what about that creature he said is in the basement? We can’t just leave it here.”
Frank ignored their arguing and picked up the body of Tirelle.
“This will make for good parts on my experiment.” He said as he left the chapel carrying Tirelle’s lifeless body on his shoulders. He looked back once at all of them bickering over what to do and just shrugged. As he left the passageway a funny idea came to his mind. He could seal them in. “Nah”.
Chris would spend the next few days reading the green book he was given. When he was done he sat the book down and pondered the revelation within. The entity Yog-Sothoth is an Outer god and is coterminous with all time and space yet is supposedly locked outside of the universe we inhabit. The being was said to have impregnated mortals all over the world so they would breed scions of his. These scions would serve as his eyes and ears on Earth and would even be sent to gather all the lost artifacts in order to keep other gods and their followers from finding them. This has angered the lower gods and in response they have sent their minions to kill the children of Yog Sothoth. Within the book were the names of twenty three women who supposedly gave birth to Yog Sothoth progeny. Chris put the book down and a feeling of trepidation and realization came over him. He thought back to that night at the Mag Bar when something had attacked him from the shadows.
“Oh boy.”

St joseph catholic church

Black Spiral Dancers in Metro Underground

Always with corruption it was with their kind. Ever since they crawled out of the Wyrm centuries before their agenda was the same; to corrupt and destroy. Their creator is as old as the stars, vaster than the suns, blacker than the void of space. It is the corruption that gnaws at the World, the hatred that threatens to devour Gaia. It is the Wyrm.
Sitting upon the floor, her legs crossed before her in a meditative stance, Dark Natasha allowed her mind to leave her body and seek guidance from a higher power. Her black fur was covered in green glowing glyphs which shined even brighter as she meditated.
“Natasha,” said a voice outside her chamber. It was Aiden Lancaster; the more human of her pact.
Natasha reached for the whip at her side. Before the man could back away, aware of her annoyance, the whip was wrapped around his neck and pulling him in close. Swiftly he was face to face with her hideous maw. Her fangs protruded, saliva dipped from her mouth and her hot breathe choked the air from him.
“Why have you disturbed me while I seek guidance?” she spat.
“The barrels are ready to be dumped.” He responded while trying to keep his face out of biting distance. Dark Natasha stood seven feet tall and held him easily off the ground.
“Then dump them. Spill them all and we will watch as the waters turn green and the city grows sick.” She threw the man out of her chamber with ease and sat back down; a smirk upon her monstrous face.
Black spiral dancer by darknatasha

Candidates of the Tremere

The candidates were divested of all wearing apparel, except their shirt and drawers. The drawers were rolled up just above the candidate’s knees, and both arms were taken out of their shirt-sleeves, leaving their legs and breast bare. A rope, technically called, by Masons, a cable-tow, was wound around their bodies three times, and a bandage, was tied very closely over their eyes.
When the candidates were prepared, the Deacon took them by the left arm, led them up to the door of the main hall, and gave three loud, distinct knocks.
The Senior Deacon, who had stationed himself at the inner door, at the right of the Senior Warden, on hearing the raps raised to his feet, made the sign of a Master Mason to the Master and spoke.
“Worshipful Master, while engaged in the lawful pursuit of Masonry, there is an alarm at the inner door of our Chantry.”
“You will attend to the alarm, and ascertain the cause.” The Master replied. The master himself was a very old vampire mage by the name of Warlock Duncan Hall.
The Senior Deacon gave three loud knocks, which were responded to by one from the parties outside. The Senior Deacon then answered with one rap, and opened the door.

“Who comes here?”
“Brother Jonathon Beck and Blake Keith, who both seek to entered apprentice, pass to the Degree of Fellow Craft, and wish to receive further light in Masonry, by being raised to the sublime Degree of a Mason.”
“Brothers, is it of your own free-will and accord?’
“It is.” Both Jon and Blake replied simultaneously.
“Brother Junior Deacon, are they worthy and well qualified?”
“They are.”
“Duly and truly prepared?”
“They are.”
“Have they made suitable proficiency in the preceding degrees?”
“They have.”
“And properly vouched for?”
“They are.”
“Who vouches for them?”
“Sir James Hamilton.”
“By what further right or benefit do they expect to gain admission?”
“By the benefit of the password.”
“Have they the password?”
“They have it not, but I have it for them.”
“Advance, and give it me.”
Sir Hamilton stepped forward, his sheathed sword gleaming from the candle light of the room, and whispered in the Senior Deacon’s ear, “Tubal Cain.”
“The pass is right; you will wait with patience until the Worshipful Master is informed of your request and his answer returned.”
Sir Hamilton then closed the door, walked to the centre of the Lodge-room before the altar, and sounded his rod on the floor three times ,which was responded to by the Master with three raps of the gavel, when the Senior Deacon made the sign of a Master Mason and said aloud.
“Brothers Jon and Blake, who both seek to be, initiated Entered Apprentice, pass to the Degree of Fellow Craft, and now wish to receive further light in Masonry, by being raised to the sublime Degree of a Mason.”
“Is it of thy own free-will and accord?”
“It is,” they both replied again.
Sir Hamilton stepped to the altar, took the compasses, walked to the door, opened it, and said.
“You shall enter, and be received in due form.”
The Junior Deacon advanced, followed by the Stewards, with rods, when the Senior Deacon stopped them, by placing his hands against the candidates, at the same time saying:
“Brothers, on entering this Lodge the first time, you were received on the point of the compasses, pressing your naked left breast, the moral of which was explained to you. On entering the second time, you were received on the angle of the square, which was also explained to you. I now receive you on both points of the compasses, extending from your naked left to your naked right breast,” he stopped to place both points against the candidate’s breasts. “Which is to teach you that as the vital parts of man are contained within the breasts, so the most excellent tenets of our institution are contained between the points of the compasses—which are Friendship, Morality, and Brotherly Love.”
The Junior Deacon then passed the candidates and took his seat near the door, at the right hand of the Senior Warden in the west, while the Senior Deacon proceeded to conduct the candidates, followed by the two Stewards, three times around the Lodge, during which time the Worshipful Master read the following passage of Scripture.
“Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them: while the sun, or the moon, or the stars be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain; in the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease, because they are few; and those that look out of the windows be darkened, and the doors shall be shut in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be brought low. Also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and the almond-tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail; because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets; or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken at the fountain, or the wheel at the cistern. Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was; and the spirit shall return unto God, who gave it.”
As the Senior Deacon and candidates passed the different stations of the officers, they (the officers) sounded their gavels as followed; when they passed the Junior Warden in the south the first time, he gave one rap , Senior Warden one rap, and Worshipful Master one rap; the second time . Junior Warden two raps, Senior Warden two raps, and Worshipful Master two raps; the third time round, Junior Warden three raps, Senior Warden three raps, and the Worshipful Master three raps. The Master so timeed his reading of the passage of Scripture, as to finish just as the parties reach the Junior Warden’s station in the south, on the third round, when they halted.
Sir James Hamilton approached the candidates, faced them toward the east, toward Warlock Duncan and spoke again.
“Brother, you will step off with your left foot one full step, and bring the heel of your right in the hollow of your left foot; now step off with your right foot, and bring the heel of your left in the hollow of your right foot; now step off with your left foot, and bring both heels together.”
The ritual went on like this for several long moments before they were told to kneel before the altar where several goblets of blood where placed. These goblets held the blood of the clan elders and both Jon’s sire and Blake’s sire. This was the moment Jon had feared, having already ingested all of their blood on two separate occasions. This would be the third time drinking their blood and it would bond him to them. He had heard stories about the blood bond and how its chains were unbreakable. It would mean for the rest of all eternity he would be bound to the clan elders and their agenda. He and Blake were about to become fully fledged Tremere vampires, willing to give their unlife for its cause.
“You will repeat your name, and say after me.” Warlock Duncan said as he approached the kneeling men before the altar.
“I, of my own free-will and accord, in the presence of my elders, and this worshipful Chantry, erected to them, do hereby and hereon most solemnly and sincerely promise and swear, that I will always hail, ever conceal, and never reveal any of the secrets, arts, or magic of the Tremere clan, to any kindred or kindred whomsoever, except it be to a true and lawful brother of this clan, or in a regularly constituted Chantry of Tremere, nor unto him, or them, until by strict trial, due examination, or lawful information, I shall have found him, or them, as lawfully entitled to the same as I am myself.”
Duncan paused and looked down to the candidates at which time they repeated the phrase.
“I furthermore promise and swear, that I will stand to and abide by all laws, rules, and regulations of the Tremere elders, and of the Chantry of which I may hereafter become a member, as far as the same shall come to my knowledge; and that I will ever maintain and support the laws, and edicts of the Grand Chantry under which the same shall be holden.”
Again he paused to allow them to repeat.
“Further, that I will acknowledge and obey all due signs and summonses sent to me from a elder, sire or Primogen, if within the length of my cable-tow.”
“Further, I will not cheat, wrong, nor defraud this Tremere Chantry, nor a brother of this clan, knowingly, nor supplant him in any of his laudable undertakings, but will give him due and timely notice, that he may ward off all danger.”
“Further, that I will not knowingly strike a brother , or otherwise do him personal violence in anger, except in the necessary defense of myself or property.”
“Further, that I will abide by the laws of the Camarilla.”
After each pause, Jon and Blake repeated the ritualistic expressions.
“All this I most solemnly, sincerely promise and swear, with a firm and steady resolution to perform the same, without any hesitation, mental reservation, or secret evasion of mind what-ever, binding myself, under no less penalty than that of having my body severed in two, my bowels taken from thence and burned to ashes, the ashes scattered before the four winds of heaven, that no more remembrance might be had of so vile and wicked a wretch as I would be, should I ever, knowingly, violate this my obligation. So help me Tremere, and keep me steadfast in the due performance of the same.” After repeating the lengthy phrase both Jon and Blake looked towards one another. Jon wasn’t sure if he glimpsed fear in Blake’s deep brown eyes, but he was sure that dread was upon his face.
“You will rise and drink to unity?” Duncan asked.
“We shall,” they replied and as they did they took a goblet off the altar and raised it to their lips. Blake didn’t hesitate. Jon did, but only momentarily. He did find the elders blood to be irresistible.
When it was over both Jon and Blake were introduced to Warlock Duncan Hall, while the others in the room feasted on naked mortals who were thrown to the floor against their will. Several younger women cried out for mercy, but received none as the other vampires sated their thirst on the blood of youth.

Duncan sat back and admired the macabre scene before him. The once perfectly shined marble floors were now soaked in fresh blood. The recently drained dead bodies of several people laid about the floor in helpless looking positions. His smile was stolen by the appearance of a mysterious shadowy figure that loomed off to the side of him in an unlit hall.
“I am disappointed that I was not invited to such a fine orgy of blood you have provided.” The feminine voice said with a slithery speech.
“Why would you be invited? You are not Tremere. I am not even sure what you are.” Duncan replied.
“Now is that any way to speak to one bearing gifts?” Duncan could not help, but admire her womanly shape as she approached out of the shadows. Her lean body accented by her long wavy black hair that seemed to ride down her curves like a surfer would a tide. When she was right against him in a seductive stance she raised a book to take his eyes off her breast.
“This is the only gift I bare tonight, Duncan.”
Not hiding his disappointment he responded.”Yes I see. And what is it?”
“Another book that tales an interesting story from the land of Nod.”
“Who is the author? Does the story mention Lilith or Cain?” Duncan’s voice began to rise as he spoke in excitement.
“No authors name is mentioned, but I assure you the book is legitimate. The book also speaks of a polluter who goes by the name of Vutha Jivi. Where ever he traveled the waters were corrupted and the lands soiled. It is a very interesting story, but before I hand it over,” she pulled the book away teasing Duncan. “Don’t you have something for me? I would not hand this precious tome over lightly.”
Duncan produced from his pocket a shiny silver ring, with a red ruby set within it.
“I procured this at the cost of several kindred. I hope what you give me gets me closer to the truth behind all of this and does not open more questions like the last book you gave me.”
“My dear Duncan, all truths would be known if they were not difficult to uncover. Your quest is merely a century old. I have known others to spend several centuries and discover less than you already have.” She gave a coy look as she slowly grabbed the ring.
“And do not forget that most of what you have learned is because of me.”
Duncan quickly grabbed the book and pulled it towards him.
“You play games. You know more than you let on woman. I may be young in your eyes, but do not forget I wield a knowledge that is several millennium old.”
The woman let go of the book and backed away, smiling all the while and never taking her eyes off the warlock.
“You know very little of the knowledge which is eons old actually. Good bye Duncan. Thanks for the ring.” Before Duncan could respond she leaped into the air and flew out the window which she had crept in only moments ago. As she flew through the night sky she smiled and spoke to herself.
“Oh lord Duncan, if you only knew the truth you would shiver in fear and wish you had swallowed the blue pill.”

Terror Unleashed at the University

He sat back and considered the pages he had only just moments ago translated. The realization of what he held in his hands before him unnerved him and beads of sweat slowly ran down his forehead. He scratched his head vigorously as he had many times before that night only this time he cringed in pain. As he glanced over to a mirror in his university office the horror of what he had done to himself while translating the evil pages was realized. Clumps of his grayish hair were missing and in their place was patches of bald spots with open wounds oozing with small streaks of fresh blood; his blood. He looked down at his fingernails which still had some remaining hair caught within them. By translating the few pages of the Necronomicon he had gone slightly mad.
He considered the pages again making a conscious effort not to scratch his head, which led to him nervously tapping his glasses on his desk. He had discerned that these pages were from a third print, which was a reprint of the book that was originally copied in Spain during the 17th century. Its pages were written in Latin and stained with blood.
The last page spoke plainly about some sort of deity, Yog Sothoth, who is coterminous with all time and space. Apparently this entity would take on a physical form and inseminate a human female to bare his child. If this child made it to adulthood it would become this neutral being’s collector of important artifacts on earth. Some artifacts are not meant for the intelligent beings of earth to possess and if they were to have access to these powerful items it would upset the balance of the natural order of things. This demigod would have trials to overcome before he could claim his destiny, as all demigods in mythology.
The first three pages were of a different nature all together. While the last page spoke of a prophecy of some sort these pages were riddled with meaningless chants and images of ancient unrecognizable symbols, demonic creatures and candle layouts reminiscent of the old pagan protective circles from early Europe. He went over them several times and could not make sense of them.
Professor Allen of the University of Louisville grabbed the papers and tucked them away safely in his satchel. He turned out the lights to his office and left. He figured he had deciphered all he could from the pages and would now return them to the man who had given them to him the day before. He was very curious to learn how the man, Chris he believed he said his name was, came into possession of such rare documents. As he passed a window in the hallway he could see his reflection. He quickly adorned an old hat to cover up his blemished head.
After the professor was long gone from his office a dim light began to glow. A candle that sat upright on the edge of his desk had started to come to life all by itself. The flames danced briefly above the candle before spitting forth a floating eye which looked about the room quickly, in search of anything posing a threat to it. Once it was sure that the space was empty it melded back into the fire disappearing from our world. The flame died and once again the room was dark.
That is when it entered. Creeping and crawling from some place in between its plane and our plane of existence the strange creature materialized out of a black ooze that semi hovered above the desk; the rest of its mass oozing on the top of the desk and partially dripping off the sides of it. The demon had an insect like torso with spindly legs spread nearly 6ft across. Vertical mandibles drooled above a cluster of black eyes and three pairs of membranous wings sprouted from its thorax. The insect like body trailed off into a writhing mass of tails, each tipped in an upward curving stinger protruding from a distended bulge. It fluttered its wings and tapped its legs repeatedly against the desk which it was as nearly as large as.
Joe Morgans, the nightly janitor of this particular building happened to be walking by the professors office with his cleaning supplies unsoiled as he was about to began work. That is when he heard the strange noise coming from inside the professor’s office. The tapping and scratching sounds stopped instantly as he leaned against the door to listen closer.
“Professor Allen is that you?” he called out. When he didn’t get an answer he pulled out his key ring and fumbled for the professor’s office key. He unlocked the door not knowing what waited on the other side.
Dragon demon

Sorvinius Awakens

His eyes opened for the first time in over three hundred years. As his marble like flesh slowly reformed into its softer state, his sense of smell was greeted with the warm smell of blood, both mortal and kindred. His body reeked of old death and while in his eyes a mockery of life still existed, everything else about him seemed very much dead. Sorvinius Gorkem had been in a torpor like state since the 17th century. He had himself entombed and left his flock with specific instructions to raise him after they had established a church and city in the local area. His followers were ultimately killed before his vision came to fruition and his location was long lost and forgot about.
One of the his clan disciplines unique to those who follow Set was that he could change into a nearly indestructible form while he slept the centuries away. Awaking an ancient vampire who will eventually learn that his servants have failed him would be the worst thing anyone could do.
He rose up from the dust covered floor to see a strange group standing before him and staring at him in awe. His very presence held an aura that inspired such feelings from those around him. He could sense that one of the four were vampires of much weaker blood potency. They were young. One of them held his staff; the Staff of Set.
“Dye’ Tolk tia hue Sizbad toe Jet” he said which in the ancient Egyptian tongue translated to “Are you the true children of Set?”
He walked straight over to Matt, who held the staff. He grabbed it from his grasp who offered no resistance. Again he asked them the same question and again they just stood and stared at him not sure of what he was saying.
“Do you speak English?” Frank, the promethean asked.
“Has my city been built?” he asked in very broken English with a thick accent.
“Who are you?” Chris asked.
“Who are you?” Sorvinius asked clearly agitated. It would be he who asked the questions here.
“Why are you here? Have you come to rob me?”
All of them looked at one another; Chris, Melissa, Frank, and Matt. They hadn’t come to this hidden lair with the intention of robbing him, but technically they were. None of them expected to find a living or undead creature here.
After a few more moments of uncomfortable interaction it was clear to Sorvinius that these creatures were insignificant grave robbers. He would leave one of them alive to help him adjust to the adversity of the modern era, but the rest would clearly have to die. He waved his staff over their heads pointing it to the exiting corridor behind them. After a quick word of power the staff summoned forth a wall of sand that enclosed the room and prevented any escape. Everyone backed away from him, the wall of sand swirling and hissing at their backs.
Matt looked on in horror as the ancient creatures skin began to darken and harden like stone. His eyes furrowed and it was clear to Matt that death was coming swiftly for them all. He had, but one chance. He doubted it would work, but it had not failed him so far. Using his dark gift, as he had many times before, he glared at the monster and spoke words of Domination.
“Put your staff down and let us talk this through.”
They all expected death, but when he set his staff down and began to speak an unsettling ease washed upon them all.
“So be it. I will not kill you all just yet. Instead you will be my servants. Your goal will be to serve me and my needs of furthering the cause which is Set. The worship of Set will reside in the West as it has for centuries in the East.”
Matt couldn’t believe it had worked. He had successfully dominated an elder vampire and in doing so saved all of their lives. His temporary victory was short lived.
“Three of you will return to the surface and gather me slaves and food. You however will stay down here with me.” Sorvinius said pointing his talon like fingers at Matt. “I am casting a spell on all of you so I will always know where you are. Do not disappoint me or make me come looking for you.”
Sorvinius sat down on his throne as the others left, his staff resting across his lap. He smiled and looked over to Matt.
“Well now, tell me about the times we live in now.”
Matt began to speak, but his buzzing phone interrupted him. Sorvinius looked on in disapproval, but didn’t stay mad for too long. His thoughts drifted away to Lormac, the Frenchman who had tracked him into the hills. They were quite cruel to that one. After bleeding him dry they had him locked away in a box where he was probably still till this day.
Matt began to tell him of the 21st century, but Sorvinius waved him to be silent.
“Go upstairs to the entry room and bring me the coffin with chains bound around it. I would like to be acquainted with an old friend.” An evil smile grew upon his face.


Vampire art1

Temple of the Weaver

Beneath the streets of Louisville a pact of four Blood Talons have discovered a Temple dedicated to the Weaver. The Temple is home to Goon Daush, a water elemental that the pact eventually uses to kill vampires.
The players are sent to destroy the creature.

Before he entered the Prince’s audience room Matt thought back to the last few moments within the Temple of the Weaver. The temple itself was an enigma. It seemed to be a place of worship constructed down below in the city’s sewers.
He would never forget the dank and dark existence down there and the feeling of awe he had as he entered the lair of Goon Daush, an elemental spirit fused together by the forces of water.
According to the werewolf pack Goon Daush was a spirit sent to them by the Weaver to battle the Wyrm. From what he had gathered the Wyrm were many things unnatural to the earth that was trying to destroy it, he included since he is a vampire.
So there he was down in a den of werewolves who considered vampires the ultimate evil to be destroyed. Unease set in to say the least.
The room was enormous and unique in décor. He was amazed that something like it existed in a sewer just below the surface of downtown Louisville. The walls were painted with images of scores of werewolves in a hellish landscape fighting demons and devils. The ceiling was completely covered in mirrored tiles which reflected the macabre scene below. Frank, the Promethean and Carthage, the dominated werewolf could be seen in the reflection, but not him. It still unnerved him every time he looked into a mirror and did not see himself. It was the same for his younger brother, also Kindred. For some reason they casted no reflection in mirrors. In the center of the room was a large pool, its water as black as ink. Beyond the pool was a huge brazier shaped like a hybrid werewolf which held a large fire that lit the room with a shadowy illumination.
As they entered the large room they all stared up at the ceiling. The mirror offered a hypnotic trance and sense of false security. That false security was stolen as the water stirred. Matt readied his swords.
Frank stood neared the edge of the pool. He was quite a sight to behold; a 7ft tall reanimated man wearing a generator on his back to offer an electrical source. Several head lamps sprouted from his shoulders to offer a light source down in a place where darkness was prevalent.
Even he was surprised by the massive creature that exploded out of the water. It was serpent like with waves of cascading tentacles flowing in every direction. Its snake like head and watery appendages slammed upon the ground with the force of an ocean’s storm. Frank was the first to feel its wrath as it slapped him around. Matt and Blake ran about trying to position themselves away from the large wake of water.
Blake was still concerned about the mysterious creature he had seen following them down into this section of the sewer. He kept an eye open and wasn’t surprised when another werewolf ran into the room letting out a savage battle roar. He stayed in the back and called upon his newly found magic to summon bolts of electricity to shoot into the water elemental.
Matt was trying to keep his distance when one of the watery tentacles grabbed him up off the ground from nearly ten feet away and yanked him into the body of water. He struggled to get free, but it was no use. The flailing beast oozed back into the water with Matt, submerging him at least twelve feet deep. While he was under water he could feel forces slamming him from all sides nearly pulling him apart. He did the only thing he could do. He played dead. Once he stopped resisting and the creature thought its foe destroyed he was released. He waited only a moment before he swam to the surface.
As Matt climbed out of the pool he was relieved to be getting out when he did. While he was submerged under water for several long moments Frank had climbed behind the huge brazier and pushed it over. Matt stood by as the massive statue fell over into the pool spilling hot coals and fire into the water. Steam immediately filled the air.
Matt realized they would not be able to defeat the water elemental and its werewolf guardian so he used his vampiric discipline of Dominate to mentally persuade the guardian that they were his allies and it was Goon Daush who was the enemy. The guardian ceased its attack on them and turned its attention to the giant water mass which was now battering Blake. Together the five of them smited the mighty elemental until it was no more than a puddle upon the temples floor.
“So what do we do with these guys now?” Blake asked referring to the two werewolves who both sat off to the side, shifted back into their human form.
“I was thinking we could keep them as friends.” Matt replied with a smile.

“So tell me. Did you find the source of the missing vampires?” the Prince addressed Matt and Blake, seemingly ignoring the large promethean they had brought with them. Occasional the prince would give a look of disapproval to the monster.
“The vampires were being captured by an elemental water spirit and brought back to a den of werewolves. All those captured were forced into the sun and killed; all, but Scruggs who we managed to save.” Matt responded.
“Werewolves in my city!” the prince spat in outrage. “Did you kill the beast?”
“The elemental was destroyed.”
“And the werewolves? Were they killed?”
“Not all of them, no. I have used my powers to convince them I am their ally. I figured they could be a useful tool when needed.” Matt said.
“You are to return and destroy them. I will not have any lupines running loose in my city.” The prince stated and quickly turned and exited the room.
Matt, Blake and Frank all were left standing there. None of them liked the idea of returning to the sewers to face the remaining werewolves.
“Well, we have four hours of daylight remaining.”

Nick's Ordeal
Nick's Ordeal

Darkness; that was all he could see. The smell of old pine filled his nose and as he slowly awoke it didn’t take Nick long to realize he was confined in a small space. All he could do was just lay there. Wood was beneathe him, above him and all around him.
Panic began to sink in. Had he been buried alive? How did he get here in this small personal hell? He tried to remember the night before, but nothing came to mind. The only feeling besides fear that he felt was hunger and not just any normal hunger. This was different. He hungered for something he could not quite explain.

The Creation

A rogue vampire by the name of Artemis Black has traveled alone for the past 100 years. He has been on the run from the Camarilla since 1972. After recently discovering how to create progeny he decided to create his own posse of outlaws and unwillingly turned Matt, Jon, and Nick into vampires. He took them out to feed and murder, but taught them nothing of any vampire laws or how to feed without killing. Artemis made the players believe they were untouchable monsters higher on the food chain than humans.

Nick’s Ordeal
Chris’s Ordeal
Last Night of Mortality
Tracy’s Ordeal
Slim’s Ordeal

The characters were able to lead Artemis into the Mag bar, which is controlled by the Brujah. The Brujah were able to subdue Artemis and Matt, Jon and Nick were released from his depravity.

Vampire the Hunted

The masquerade remained the same all the way till September 11th 2001. The events of that day changed not only our world, but the world of darkness. In this point in time important people began to open their eyes and refused to look the other way.

In 2002 the Department of Homeland Security(DHS) was established. This coupled with former information from both the FBI and the National Security Agency lead to a scrutiny that Kindred society had no seen since the times of the Spanish Inquisition. Before 911, ghouls of powerful Kindred within the agency and on higher boards were able to shift and control information, but it became increasingly difficult and they began to find many doors shut and many more people refusing to be bribed or threatened.

In November 2002 a group of Awakened within the DHS set up a special division of the agency which had no name on paper, but the Kindred would soon come to call them the Hunters. Almost overnight ghouls in high positions were killed off systematically leaving many Kindred int he dark literally. Without their high ranking allies they were blind to the national policies they once had a hand in. This and the fact that more people had become awakened to their existence lead to a blood bath.

Between the years of 2003 and 2007 many Kindred were hunted down and killed. In the first few months many sleeping Primogen met an early demise to the surprise of the Camarilla. The Sabbat saw this as the time to unite and stand up against mortals, some even suggested revealing themselves in public, but the Camarilla would be apart of it. Instead they drove themselves deeper underground and farther into the shadows.

During these bloody years the majority of the Sabbat leadership in America was killed off. All that remained were the roaming pacts who still hold true to Sabbat values. While they still hold many Mexican territories there isn’t a single Sabbat controlled city in the U.S.

In the modern era one would have to look hard to see any activities of the Kindred. For the most part they no longer meddle in mortal affairs, all though a few brave ones still tempt fate this is often met with an early final death. Not a single Kindred has his hands in any upper offices within Washington DC. The Camarilla still exist with it’s familiar structure, but they are more withdrawn from public life. The 1st tradition is more important than ever now. One who goes about foolishly breaking the masquerade is usually dispatched by mortals before the Kindred can judge their crimes.


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