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@ Warork

I think I speak for everybody in this entire RP when I say, fething awesome post man, be proud of it...

Shas'ui T'au Kais wrote:@ Warork

I think I speak for everybody in this entire RP when I say, fething awesome post man, be proud of it...

100% agreed, great work Warork...
In fact I really have to commend everyone so far...some first rate RPs here guys...

FITZZ wrote:

Shas'ui T'au Kais wrote:@ Warork

I think I speak for everybody in this entire RP when I say, fething awesome post man, be proud of it...

100% agreed, great work Warork...
In fact I really have to commend everyone so far...some first rate RPs here guys...

Yep...thanks...I'm happy to say that it seems everyone brought their A game for this and that's always a good thing...keep it up guys...we're making magic here...

Wow...

Warork didn't just raise the bar, he built an entire fething floor on top of it.

Now, time to get my shenanigans on.

Silly, you will not beat my shenanigans...

... I am sure of it, they'll be better than Warork's treachery!

Shas'ui T'au Kais wrote:Silly, you will not beat my shenanigans...

... I am sure of it, they'll be better than Warork's treachery!

... ..See...this is what got you in a jam in the last Blood Moon...your going to end up " One upping/ revenging" your way right into another trap...

See: Blundering.

BTW guys, let's try to keep all OOC discussions in the BM discussion thread...I want to keep the actual RP thread realitively clear of OOC post...thanks.

Part One.. A Dragon Rises.


...One year ago...


Fire trucks screamed along under the neon encrusted lights of Broadway, aiming for the multiple fires that had spread through lower Manhattan, Hells Kitchen and into the Bowery. There where emergency calls all over the area, a call from Ludlow Street had insisted a large beastial creature was throwing cars across the store fronts, while another said flying people had been seen battling across the rooftops of Nolita. Mayor Danker Creed had appeared an insisted the chaos was due to an isolated escalation of gang based warfare, that Police and emergency services where starting to now contain.
However to those hiding in the apartment blocks and houses within the Lower East Side, they knew the statement was bogus, no one dared stray onto the streets as gunfire, bestial howls and screams echoed within the night, the night had taken New York city as its own.

Hale Brockford ran across from the Bowery into Bleecker Street, he dare not look behind him as a scream pierced the night sky and the sounds of teeth tearing into flesh assaulted his senses. Pulling the clip from his inner pocket, he discharged the empty one to the floor, loaded the clip and span as the huge fur covered monstrosity leapt toward him salivating blood and gore. He barely had enough time to squeeze the trigger, thanking his friend Alexandro for insisting he replaced that old barrel pistol for a automatic. Fifteen bullets tore through the chest of the beast at close range, it staggered onto its knees, and Hale side stepped as it flopped onto the floor, melted silver draining from the multiple wounds.
He paused and looked over at the street, Kylie was gone, her head dismembered from her body thanks to one savage bite. Hale had no idea what had ticked off the Weres, but the blood of supernatural kind soaked the streets of New York tonight.

His mobile buzzed in his pocket, had he not already been long dead, he was positive he would have dropped right there. Grasping the phone, he flicked it open and couldn't help but bare his fangs as he spat down the line.

"Hale here, what the hell is going on!"

He recognized the voice, Selina Walters, she sounded flustered, and that worried him, normally nothing shook the cool of the socialite Julii. He listened and his face dropped, two thirds of the Vampires in New York where dead already, at least half the Werewolves where down as well, a peace treaty that had kept New York descending into bloodshed was in tatters after over one hundred years. There was something else, another faction, they had been attacking Vampires in their havens, tracking them down and butchering them like cattle. Hale looked across the street, then behind him, to be that powerful, it boggled the mind.

"Okay so if the Prince is at his apartment in the Dakota. I'm on my way."

Flipping the phone shut, he turned and stopped at the sight of a dark haired beauty, her skin pale like marble staring at him from only a few feet away her emerald green eyes locked upon his own. His brow furrowed, she was a Vampire, but not one he recognized. His hand moved slowly toward his concealed knife, a blade that once belonged to a werewolf, that had a nasty effect against Kindred, it had served him well.

"Who are you?" He asked as he took a step away from her still trying to slip his hand toward his jacket, she mirrored his movements, she was studying him, looking at his movements, stalking him ready to strike.

"They call me Ruxandra." She whispered softly.

His mind was racing, why did that name ring a bell, he realized he had barely a moment to act, and went for the knife. A blur of movement eluding his senses criss crossed his vision and a sharp pain struck him hard as he staggered back. He tried to focus as blood splattered from two wounds, and looked down at the knife in his hand, lying on the sidewalk before him. She had a sword, he hadn't even seen her draw it, as he tried to step back he felt the blood washing down his leg, and glanced down at the open gash across his belly, several key arteries where cut. Even for a Kindred that was a problem, he tried to channel his blood, to fix the wounds but she was smiling at him.

"Feth you." was all he could muster as something slammed down on his back. Hale slowly rolled over and looked up at the huge white haired Opriknikki, he was wearing clothes from another era, Turkish Hale pondered.

"Mistress does this worm bother you?" It growled not even acknowledging the Kindred with a glance.

"No Klauth, he is already dead."

The Opriknikki snorted in Hale direction and then continued to walk on.

"You best hurry my lady, the Dragon has made his way to the location of the Prince, he will strike soon."

She nodded and walked over to Hale, dropped down into a crouching position over him. Trying to sit up the Brutii gasped as Ruxandras clawed hand grasped him by the throat. He stared at her eyes, she was not angry, nor sadistic, she was just looking down upon him, appraising him.

"You killed a Werewolf." She said matter of factly.

He glanced over at the body, where once a mountain of fur had sat, now a frail and twisted body of an older woman, probably in her fifties lay. He looked back toward her and barely managed to speak from under that grasping hand.

"So what if I did?"

She looked at him, turning his face left to right, before leaving him back facing forward.

"It would seem a waste."

She released him and stood to her full height, looking down at him. He wasn't sure what was coming, not that he could do much about it anyways.

"You said you where Hale, on the phone before?"

He nodded, wondering how long she had been watching before the Werewolf had attacked, maybe she had be planning her own ambush.

"Listen to me carefully Hale, my blood kin hate Werewolves, we always have, for you action I would spare you, but you must find a hole and hide, in the coming nights I will find you and bring you in from the cold. Understand?"

Hale paused, he had been a Kindred for over one hundred and forty years, he had almost fallen to the final death on more than one occasion alongside those who stood in New York, he had fought tooth and claw to maintain a place among their night, and he had earned many friends within New York while doing so. He didn't even ponder it for more than a heartbeat.

"I'll be waiting." He gasped.

Ruxandra nodded, and then headed off into the dark, he tried to track her but by the time he was standing she was gone, limping over to his hand he picked it up and began to channel blood to fix the wound in his belly. He needed to find somewhere quiet. It seemed that the Kindred had some new players in town, and this Dragon would... He suddenly stopped dead as the name hit him like a stone, the Dragon. Ruxandra Tepes, granddaughter of Vlad Tepes, the Dragon, Dracula, a kindred said to have been dead for an age.

His phone buzzed again, he looked down, it was Selina again. He gazed at the number for a few moments, then placed his phone back in his pocket and switched it to mute.

"Good luck Selina, you'll need it." He mused as he limped towards the ally in the distance.

... Fantastic stuff as always MDS.

Okay right im signing up. Get me on board!

Player; Catos

Character; Jimmy Armstrong

Race and clan/archetype; An ancient and supremely powerful Vampire clan, now eradicated of which he is the sole survivor.

Physical Description; Black spiky hair with red highlights. Athletic and lithe build. Wears red jacket and black leather jeans and a punk belt

Equipment; Silver capped nails, Uzi, short blades.

Back story; Jimmy was turned into a vampire at age 21, millennia ago on a Friday 13th and has been wandering the world since. Following the events in Empire City, Jimmy fled the country to prevent his luck from permanently scarring the area. He briefly arrived in Prague looking for a thrill but again only succeeded in causing suffering. Since then he has been travelling the world alone, experiencing new life, civilisations and boldly going where no vamp has gone before (probably), and decimating the local population almost every single time (it wasn’t on purpose, honest!). He has been present at most world catastrophes and blames himself for most. The most recent place to fall under his bad luck is where he is now staying, in London. He has accidently succeeded in causing mass riots in the local area. He has recently met up with an ex-hunter who, through a series of “accidents” that Jimmy is reluctant to admit to, has given up secrets involving the apparent identity of the person that turned him in the first place, apparently travelling with two werewolves. As part of his first ounce of good luck in millennia, he has managed to trace them down to the place where he is currently staying; London, England. He hopes to meet with his “vampire father” and demand some explanations for his doomed fate, to bear awful luck for his entire existence. He is also trying to attain the location of Sky “Vegas” Henderson, someone involved in the death of his partner, Ramona.

Other info: Following in the footsteps of his old love interest (now ex-love interest following her death at the hands of Hunters), he has begun to read the entire works of Shakespeare (his favourite is The Merchant of Venice of which his favourite character is Shylock).

Virtue- Light Side- Jimmy in his usual state is usually cool and calculated and generally calm

Vice- Dark Side- When Jimmy gets very sad or becomes very emotional he could “flip” revealing his dark evil side and becomes a merciless killing machine.

-Bad Luck- Jimmy was turned on a Friday the 13th and as such has unnatural bad luck. However, he has the strange ability to shift his luck onto other people and has found a way to radiate his misfortune father than suffer from it. This does however mean that anyone around him, friend or foe is in grave danger…..

Special Powers: Mind Control, Changing into Mist, The
Prodigy: Arcane Mage, Bearer of Ill Omen (can shift bad luck onto anyone he wishes), other as of yet undiscovered powers due to being a truly ancient vampire.

wait.

non-embraced. therefore he is an 'outcast' (IIRC)

changing into mist??!!? Mind control?!?!?! Mage powers?!?!?!

and I would think he has to have a clan so FITZZ can do his stats. (Juli, brutti, Opriknikki...)


and...the Vegas in this world is dead.

ineptus astartes wrote:wait.

non-embraced.

changing into mist??!!?

and I would think he has to have a clan so FITZZ can do his stats.


and...the Vegas in this world is dead.

Vegas maybe dead but he doesnt know that. He is embraced and thats the whole reason hes in london, to find the one who embraced him.

I know, but vampires who do not know their embracer are pretty low on the list.

he needs to have an archetype, the combat here is done with die rolls and stats.

I would run this by FITZZ first.

ineptus astartes wrote:wait.

non-embraced.

changing into mist??!!?

and I would think he has to have a clan so FITZZ can do his stats.


and...the Vegas in this world is dead.

Catos character appeared in the first Blood Moon and was responsible for the death of Colt...
I have the stat line for his character...and the ability to transform to a mist was approved way back in BM I...it's something I allowed due to Jimmy's status as an " Ancient"...but I don't allow for most Vamps..( PCs that is)...

oh.


silly me.

ineptus astartes wrote:oh.


silly me.

...Again, this is why I encourage all new participants to read through the previous RP's... ...it will really help you guys to familiarize yourselves with the backstories.

BIC:……….Light in the Darkness: part two…………

Mattheus looked at his desolated environment, the walls covered in graffiti. Trash piled in every corner. The stench of decay loitered the place. When Mattheus had accepted the assignment from the Second Court of Cain, he hadn’t expected this. It would be his chance to prove what he was capable of. That Cain hadn’t made a mistake. He left Arl’nev with his head held high, promising he wouldn’t rest until he had found her. That happened three months ago. His once fearsome guards, now, nothing more than shabby dogs. Their number half of what they had been once. How could a pathetic Humanii slip out of his hands again and again. She kept herself one step ahead of him. Almost as if she was created with only one intention. To make God laugh at his futile attempts. He couldn’t bare this insult to his person. He was Mattheus! Embraced by the merciful Cain himself. This Humanii couldn’t possibly be a match for him. And yet she was out there in the wasteland. Defying him, humiliating him. And worst of all, he had to rely on the services of Rek’shilva, the Exiled city. Placed like an ugly cancer in the middle of the landscape, slowly corrupting everyone who dared to walk this place.

Before him sat Aries, a watcher of the Swarche Sonne. Here to see if Mattheus would hold his promise. The man was nothing more than dry skin clinging on to his clearly visible bones. But from his eyes, the malicious intellect of a Strigoi was clearly noticeable. His robes used to be white, but were now gray. A testimony to Mattheus failing. It enraged Mattheus to have Aries sitting before him. Silent, but judging. He had a mysterious talent, like all Watchers had. And Mattheus could have sworn that the preying eyes in his head where his. But he had no prove, and even if he did. There was no way he could touch the Watcher. They were the right hand of Cain and therefore untouchable. “He is near.” Aries stated, his voice sounded like old parchment. Mattheus had no choice, but to rely on this man. If you could even call a exiled one a man. It was his greatest humiliation until this day. This was the lowest thing he could have done. Alas he had no other option. And Aries just sat there observing. Waiting for the exiled one, from the City the Swarche Sonne had condemned to extermination. Maybe it would be better if Aries didn’t make it back to Arl’nev.

Aleron walked inside the remnants of the destroyed house. Releasing Mattheus from his troubled thoughts. Aleron was a strong as a bear, his scars proudly displayed on his naked chest. Aleron was his Primus, the bloody ruler of Arl’nev’s Arena. No Vampirii could match his strength, and all fell beneath his trusty hammers. Aleron lived for the thrill of battle, the smell of blood. He was Mattheus greatest possession. “The informant is here.” He stated. Using as few syllables as possible. Mattheus waved his hand, signaling he could come in. A small Vampirii came in. His dark red cape draped around him, obstructing every view of his face. He looked scrawny and weak. The wretched scent of Rek’shilva attacked Mattheus delicate senses. “Show yourself.” He commanded. He wanted to see more of this exiled one. “Your excellence forgive me, if I don’t…” he was interrupted as Aleron pushed him against the ground. Tearing his cape right from his back. He was no match for the Primus. “The Dominus gave you an order!” Aleron cursed as he pulled his victim back up.

Mattheus observed the Exiled one, as he tried to regain his composure. He didn’t knew why but this man disappointed him. He had expected more from Rek’shilva the only city to defy the power of the Swarche Sonne. They were just thugs and murderers, willing to do anything for a fee. “I’ve heard that your Excellence is searching for someone?” The man asked. His eyes flickering back to Aleron. He clearly didn’t trust the brute. Mattheus pulled the drawing out of his sleeve. There was no photograph of his assignment. The closest thing he had was this. A drawing based on the stories of people. A longshot at best.The Exiled one carefully took the drawing out of his hand. Studying it. “You are searching for Vegas?” The man asked, his hands trembled. Mattheus grinned, this man recognized her. This meant he had seen her. “You know who she is?” He asked. “everyone know who she is, and everyone heard the stories, that she can kill a Ghoul just by looking at it.” The man laughed. “She is a ghost that stalks the wastelands, searching for revenge. She drinks the blood of werewolfs, so she can smell us from over a mile.” The man handed the drawing back. “What you seek is a story, nothing more.” He turned around wanting to exit the building. But Aleron stood in his way. Mattheus climbed out of his chair. “There is only one thing, that bugs me.” He said. “You knew who I searched before I told her name.” The exiled man froze. His hands hadn’t stop trembling since, Mattheus had given him the drawing.“And what if I knew who she was.” He asked, still facing towards Aleron. “Then I would speak, before Aleron decides he needs some exercise.”

4 Months Ago

The magazine slammed into the weapon with ease. Three more left, thought Musater. I have three more Wooden Mags before I run out. He checked to make sure he didn’t leave his Machete in some poor bastard’s head. It was there, caked in red ichor, strapped to his thigh. Widowmaker was there, as well. Loading it with the last of the .45 Caliber Wooden slugs, he gave it a quick kiss, as he always did. He missed Esmerella.

Longar adjusted his strap. Did he pull the axes from the bodies? Feeling his sash, he felt only 13 axes. He lost 2 on the ground level. gak, he thought, as he wiped the blood from the ones in his hand. Strapping them to his belt, he pulled out his Axe. The head was drenched in blood. He wiped it off with what remained of a Gucci suit. Musater was pissed that he tore it, seeing as how he wanted it. He smiled as Musater grimaced with a slight agony as Longar slammed his axe into the body, tearing the suit. Musater shot his little toe off for that. Smiling as he looked down at his bandaged foot, he drew his sword. Faithful little sword, he stole it from a Gaul Warlord. “Arduro Terraum” it read, or “Burn the World” In Latin, the language of the Kindred. He felt a slight amount of happiness as he drove the longsword into the hearts of those who had forged and pined for it for over a thousand years.

“Longar, when those doors open, do not stop. Don’t even linger. If you do, you will die. Try and pick up an axe, dead. Pull your sword from a body, dead. Go for the neck and heart, but do not pierce, or you will lose your blade. And remember-“

The giant laughed. “Musater, we have gone into Kindergardens more dangerous than this. It’s only, what, 10, 15 guards?”

“36 by my last count.” Musater checked the strobe on the weapon. It flashed the UV light over a hundred times per minute.

“36? This is a Mental Ward, right? Why are there so many damned guards for a crazy lady?” Longar looked quizzical.

“Because she’s a Death Mage. With sociopathic tendencies. Do you see the issue there?” Musater looked right into Longar’s eyes. They went from a deep blue to a Crimson Red. They were about 15 seconds from Longar hitting the wall. And 10 seconds from the elevator reaching the floor.

“Got it.” He hefted his sword in his left, and took 3 throwing axes in his left hand.

Ding! The elevator opened, and when the guards checked to see who was in it, it was empty. They were confused for only a second, for that’s when Longar smashed through the ceiling panel. The guards were treated to a twin decapitation. He roared as he began to charge. Musater followed suit not long after, popping rounds into stragglers from Longar’s Berserker charge. The goliath was a human lumberjack, slicing and stabbing everyone he saw. Before long, they had killed nearly everyone in the wing. The Alarm was blaring, and the pair were drenched in blood. Longar gave a war shout as he threw his final handaxe into the face of an Opprinikkini. Musater smiled as he finished it off with his Machete, cutting into the soft flesh of the neck. It screamed as it fell to the ground, head thrown feet from the body. Musater smiled as he walked over to the head. It was still chomping at the air, a reflex to try to get more vitae into the body. Placing the head against the wall, Musater crushed it with his kick. The pink and grey goo went all over the wall, and he laughed in amusement. This was no longer a fight, but a game.

“That’s all of them.” Longar began to collect his throwing axes, and Musater loaded new magazines into his weapons.

Three of the axes flew out the window, leaving only 10 left to place in the holsters. He walked to his son, and examined him.

“Three bullets to the shoulder, your ear is missing an earlobe, and there’s a knife in your thigh.” Longar pulled the weapon out of Musater, and began to pick bullets out of him with the dagger as Musater gave his own report.

“You’re missing a few teeth, there’s 2 bullets in your lower abdomen, and the fact that your missing a nipple worries me.” He pulled his machete out, and dug the bullets from his father.

After the impromptu surgeries, the pair walked over the corpses of the Ghoul and Kindred guards, and came to the door. She was standing at the window, smiling, with blood covering her hands. Smiling, she talked in an angelic voice.

“Gentlemen, how kind of you to aid in my escape. For my part, I killed the four guards in my room. Now, if you would be so kind as to open the magnetic seal, I could join you in your escapades.” She put on puppydog eyes, and gestured to the four husks pinned upside-down to the back wall. They were devoid of any life, their souls now given to the Infernus as an appeasement.

“You just killed four men. How can we trust that we will not suffer the same fate as them?” Musater gestured to the four men.

She pushed a piece of paper against the window. Where she got it, and how, eludes everyone. It read in red ink, most likely the blood of the guards,

“I hereby declare my sword fealty to my two saviors. I will promise that no harm will come to them from my hands, or will I try and harm them via proxy. I will also expect the same from the pair, that they will not hurt me via their hands or proxy.

On the bottom, signed in a different color of blood, the woman’s, was her signature. Written in a near illegible scrawl was a simple word.

“Fenrir”

“Slip it under the door.” Longar told her. She happily oblidged, and they had slipped it under, with two new signatures. Theirs. She smiled as she examined the document. Slipping it in her pocket, she asked again. “Now, if you would be so kind as to open the magnetic seal, I could join you in your escapades.”

They happily opened the door. She exited, and picked up a shotgun from a soldier. Scavenging ammo and other goods, she exited with a pair of Bowie Knives, a Riot Gun, 30 Slug rounds, 15 buck, and a Snickers bar. They looked at her funny when she picked it up.

“Look, donkey-caves. If you’ve been trapped in a room for 10 years, you’re going to want some fething Snickers.” Unwrapping it, she ate the whole thing in mere seconds.

“You’re preaching to the choir…” Longar muttered under his breath, and began to laugh at what he was saying. “Come on, Fenrir. Let’s go.” He grabbed a human guard, and she looked at them funny.

“The hell are you two planning? You Necrophiliacs?” She gave them a very puzzled looks.

“We’re wolves. And that’s lunch.” Musater ripped an arm off and took a good chunk of flesh off. She gasped.

“Hey! You almost ate the Milky Way!” Grabbing the candy bar from the arm pocket of the detached arm, she wiped the blood off the wrapper before digging in.

“At least she’s not squeamish.” Longar said, eating the other arm. The three talked, laughed, and ate. They were, however, interrupted by about 6 guards in the elevator. Musater reached for his weapon, but before his finger even touched the trigger, all six were sucked from life, their bodies slinking to the ground. Longar and Musater looked at Fenrir.

She was smiling as she walked over to the six and picked up a water bottle.

“Come on you pansies. You want to get her over here?” She beckoned for them to come. The obliged. In the elevator, the sound of sirens were becoming louder and louder. Fenrir took a swig of water before putting it down.

“This is going to be fun.”


Ding!




Just as a heads up, Fenrir's Character Sheet will be added to my OP.

Great stuff so far guys! Sorry for being late (again). (Pictures to come at a later date due to me being fussy in finding the right ones!)

Player: Aurelia
Character- Erzuli
Race/Clan- Werewolf/Lycaelon
Physical Description- Fairly tall (5'9"/175cm), curved figure, her dark brown skin is marked with scarification and tattoos, especially on her face and chest. Her (recently turned) blonde hair is in locks and long past her shoulders; she tends to have it tied back or mostly covered with a large black bandana. In public/anywhere but at her 'workshop', she wears expensive, revealing tops but always has comfortable trousers on and a pair of practical, if often cleaned, boots. Also she currently favors wearing a heavilly embroidered black/gold velvet longcoat which appears to be of an old European style. Her wolf form is that of a lithe, black, Egyptian wolf with a long golden mane down her back, her eyes are a piercing blue in this form, as are her scars.
Equipment- African style dagger – poisoned, held in scabbard placed at the middle of her back, shoulder bag: ‘The Brick’, several small pouches/vials, ‘Needle of Bathory’, ‘Pixie’s Taroe Deck’ (kept in her room at the Den), snuff box (containing a willow bark paste), well used notebook and pen. – Has access to a collection of ‘artifacts’ in Natasha’s possesion… most are kept at ‘the Den’.
Backstory- For over 200 years the only thing Erzuli had managed to discover about herself was that she was a werewolf. She spent many of those years masquerading as a Voodoo priestess on the outskirts of New Orleans, watching the humans mix with other supernaturals and becoming ever more curious about the kind of world in which she dwelt. She spent a few years exploring North America and finding her own beliefs but eventually returned to Louisiana after finding herself distinctly ill at ease with being a wolf alone. As the 20th Century began its first great war she met Vilem Novak and his pack. They allowed her to learn much more about wolf society but, ever cautious, Erzili refused to go with them to meet any sort of leadership; despite allowing herself to become Vilem’s lover. With the insecurity of her position as outcast and a powerful curiosity, she started to focus on a new facination with the effects of herbs, blood and folklore on the supernatural. Her experimentation led to the creation/destruction of a few of her own kind, plus other, weak induviduals; something she managed to keep secret by obtaining a quiet home for herself to the south-west of New Orleans. Soon after creating Anya she was confronted with the truth of her heritage as a Pure Blood by a big wolf called Jarin, who had been sent to find her by his Queen, Natasha and set with the offer to return to claim her heritage. Left with no choice but to go and yet intrigued and seduced by the prospect of power, Erzuli went with Jarin to Europe and Natasha. She destroyed her home in the bayou and hoped Vilem would take her disappearance well.
Discovering more of ghosts, prophecies, magic and finding herself stuck with a huge weight of expectation in the face of a coming war, it would have been easy for Erzuli to run. However, the newfound power and status the Pure Blood found herself with she could not bear to just leave behind and she became determined to find a new path for herself that she could control. With Jarin as her new lover and being second only due to Natasha by birthright, Erzuli has found it far too easy and enjoyable to realise a new direction for her to explore. The only thing which seems to be holding her back is the fact she has, as perhaps the least combat able of the wolves she is with, been handed the duty of teacher to the young Pure Blood, Cass. She spends as much time as is required teaching the boy to read, write and a little of humans and their history but trying to keep the boy’s attention, especially when he is growing so rapidly, is beginning to grate on her nerves. It is however, his growth rate, that sparked an idea in her mind of where she should go with her own plans… thus she grudgingly keeps to her duties as teacher, at least, she consoles herself, the boy is exceptionally bright.

Location/resources- Her main base is with Natasha's pack near San Fransisco, where she has access to anything they can provide. She has also 'acquired' a secluded property roughly ten miles north of the 'Den', at which she spends quite a portion of her time. Two Blackclaw guards who rarely leave her side.
Virtue/Merit- Animal Magnetism; she has always found it fairly easy to talk people into doing things. Spirit Sight.
Vice- Envy: No, you do not deserve anything more than she has!

Major NPC
Name: Anya... formerly Joanna Saunders
Age: 19
Race/Affiliation: Werewolf/Lycaelon
Physical Description: Slim girl of European decent with oddly perfect skin, marred (or not depending on your opinion) only by pale blue ‘tattoos’ that mirror Erzuli’s on her hands and arms. Ice blue eyes, long blonde hair that is always tied tightly back. She wears tailored clothing but still holds herself like an omega, especially when near Erzuli. Her wolf form is a pale grey/brown with glowing blue eyes.
Equipment: The clothes on her back, a cellphone and bag filled with whatever her mistress needs her to carry. Pistol with one clip of silver bullets.
Backstory: “Before the Lady came into my life there was no meaning, I was a spoilt socialite who didn't use her mind but now everything is so clear. Thinking seems so easy when the Lady is near and it gives me the confidence I lacked as a mere mortal.” - Since the events in Europe, Anya has become obsessed with the prophecy almost as much as Natasha and the focus of that is her mistress, Erzuli.
Flaw: Curiosity... she is so open to new things she sometimes just does things without thinking.
Merit: Spirit Sight.

Minor NPC
Name: Báthory Erzsébet
Age: 442
Race/Affiliation: Ghost/Former Ghoul
Physical Description: (Visable only to those who possess Spirit Sight.) She appears to be a fairly beautiful woman of about 30 years of age, dressed in the finery of early 17th Century European nobility. The illusion of perfection shatters when she is near vampires or stressed out and her visage transforms to that of a tattered, gaunt woman with a set of large torn wounds in her chest.
Equipment: None.
Backstory: She is known to history as Elizabeth Bathory, the Blood Countess: what was unknown was tthat she was a ghoul who aspired to full vampirehood. She spent many years using her position as Countess to conduct experiments in harvesting/refining blood for her masters. Upon the failure of her work on mortals being discovered she was gifted with her wish and then killed. After spending centuries trapped by the essence of her own artifact needle, she has discovered a way to perhaps gain vengance upon the vampires who killed her.
Flaws: Pride – Her work was once great and it will be again! Intangible – may not touch/interact with anything, except to project her voice within the minds of anyone with the Sight.
Merits: Tenacity. Perfect recall – applies only to her own memories.


IC...

Two months ago – the Den

“Do not… play with… this… or anything else… again! Understand!?!”

Erzuli struggled to keep her temper down to a minimum as she looked down towards the young boy. A boy who was just barely containing a massive fit of giggles, unlike his ‘mother’ Holly and father Ryan… who the Pure Blood just knew were watching from just outside the main room. It just had to be them laughing. Cass took the whack to the head she gave him without so much as a flinch. It just made her angrier knowing he was getting tough too… thick-headed… like his father. He nodded in response to her question but was either unwilling or unable to speak.

“Leave now Cass, you have training to do this morning. But heed my sister’s words. Do not touch what is not yours!”

Natasha’s soft, yet stern voice broke through the haze of anger still buzzing through her sister’s head, even as the boy walked quickly out to his father. Erzuli was sure she could see Ryan’s hand come into view to affectionately ruffle Cass’ hair in some sort of ‘well done’ gesture. She imagined ending all the expectation surrounding the boy in that instant, she could just feel the relief at never having to consider the prospect of the boy grown into a man, in her bed. But the fantasy passed as Natasha’s hand was laid on her shoulder.

“You have to give him credit for being able to steal it in the first place. The armoury has a security code securing it.”

“I’d bet on who gave it to him…”

Erzuli gripped the ornate ivory hairbrush in her left hand tightly, wishing she could just crush it.

“I doubt it. Besides, you did give Cass a hard time for not paying attention a few days ago.”

“Hes too smart sometimes…”

“Smart and strong is what I expect of him… what we want of him! I will have the security code changed. I would not get too angry sister, it shows he will be ready when the time comes. Besides, it suits you.”

Fighting back a growl, Erzuli shrugged off her sister’s hand and started to walk out of the room; lamenting not having locked the door to her room the night before. She knew Natasha had a grin on her face as she turned to head to the armoury. A smile on the Queen’s face was rare these days so she did not protest any more.

Placing the brush back into its box, Erzuli snapped the lid shut, flicked back the blonde hair from her face and walked out of the secure room, muttering to herself as to why the artifact was even there as its use was so… useless. As the door shut behind her the light illuminated the box briefly before the room plunged once more into darkness, causing the word embossed into the top of the case to sparkle for a moment… ‘Marilyin’.

Nice one Aurelia...I have to admit I'm going to enjoy watching how Erzuli handles the young Cass...

Catos wrote:
Prodigy: Arcane Mage, Bearer of Ill Omen (can shift bad luck onto anyone he wishes), other as of yet undiscovered powers due to being a truly ancient vampire.

Wait a second, I thought that mages were a human only class.



BIC:

The entire Bruss pack was awake now, the twins, Vegas and Sven, and one year old Michael were washed and dressed in warm clothing to keep the winter chill that did enter the house well enough away from their bones. Michael's hair was beginning to brown already and several blond streaks still managed to hide on the toddler's head, his green eye's alight with the reflection of the presents on the table in front of him. So young, but so knowledgeable of the meanings of wrapped square items. He had managed to start walking at only 9 months and definitely showed a combination of his mother's smarts and his father's determination, Claudius had found the combination surprising himself and couldn't wait for him to grow older and become much more of an asset, for now though he was just a one year old who wanted his presents. He saw an opportunity, his mother was busy looking after his younger siblings who were sitting as they played a small game of patty-cake and his father was busy working on something that smelled sweet, his left hand moving cautiously as his right arm held whatever it was steady. He made steady progress to the table before he stood directly at the presents almost directly over him, a small smile of delight flashed and he began to reach for them.

"No Michael." he heard his father say loudly, but words would not be enough to stop him this time. He glanced over and saw his father quickly turn and step towards him, he would have mere seconds before he could pull them off the edge and enjoy the bliss of presents galore. The quick flash of the back side of his father's hand sent the presents even further to the middle of the table and he stood there in shock at how quickly his plans had been thwarted, he looked up at the towering giant who stood there, his hand and stump triumphantly saddled on either side of his waist with a kind smile on his face, "Thought you had them huh?" his father asked. Anger swelled in his chest as Michael stared at his dad, anger and disappointment as he began to feel his lower lip tremble. His father's face changed to a look of concern, "Whoah, whoah, calm down, don't start... don't start." he said, but it was too late and soon tears were followed by the howling of the young boy. "What happened Andy, whatcha' do to him?" he heard his mother call over his own screams.

"I didn't do anything, I just pushed his presents away from 'im." Andy shouted back as Michael watched as his mom pushed his dad aside to get to him, he was quickly picked up and in the comfort of his mother's embrace soon enough. He stopped crying almost instantly as he saw his mom exchange looks with his dad, "It's okay Michael, its alright, mommy's got you." his mom said soothingly to him.

"Have you noticed that he stops crying right after one of us picks him up?" Andy asked.

"What do you mean?" Wendy asked as she gently bounced Michael along with her body.

"I mean that if you do something and I pick him up he's fine, if I do something to him and you pick him up he's also fine." Andy said while tussling Michael's hair, "He's a manipulative little bast... I mean kid." he finished, catching himself mid word. "Well, I need to get back to frosting the cake and all, keep him away from his presents, turn on Spongebob or something.".

"I'm not going to let them watch Spongebob, that stuff rots their brains." Wendy said with a small huff, "Just get back to frosting your cake and I'll make sure they at least watch something intelligent.".

"History channel then," Andy said, "or maybe sports, then they'll think that we're just congratulating each other when we do this." he said as he playfully slapped Wendy on the rump.

"Oh, keep it up big boy and you'll get it later tonight." Wendy said as she walked towards the twins with Michael and a frosting hand print on the seat of her pants.

"I wouldn't sit down Wendy." Andy said as he saw his wife about to sit on the floor with their kids.

"Why not?"

"Let's just say I got caught red handed for that last bit." Andy winked.

"What do you..." Wendy said as she saw Andy slap the back of his own pants, she twisted her torso to see blue frosting on her pants, above where her left cheek was. "Frosting Andy, really? I'll remember this." she said as she stormed back into the kitchen and snatched several paper towels.

Andy chuckled to himself as he finished with the birthday cake.

......................................

The party was small, only the Trenkovich's came over thanks to the massive snow storm blowing outside. The presents had all been unwrapped and Natalia Trenkovich was busy playing with Michael on the floor as Mikhail and Vasha Trenkovich sat on the couch with the Bruss's drinking apple cider minus any sort of alcohol. It was beginning to become late and the twins were sleeping in their cribs while Stepan Trenkovich slept in a portable crib in a guest room. "Time for bed Michael." Wendy said as she noticed the time on the clock.

"No." Michael said defiantly.

"Michael, bed now." Andy said and after staring at him for a few seconds Michael got up on his own and allowed himself to be picked up and carried away.

"Time for bed too, Natalia." Vasha said and joined Wendy in carrying the tots off for bed leaving the two men alone.


"So..." Mikhail began with a thick Eastern European accent, "about Michael."

"I know already," Andy said as he stared into his cider, "Claudius told me when he moved us here."

"I know you're not too happy with it my friend." Mikhail began, "But Claudius wants them to have children, I don't like it much either, but we should be happy for it."

"Andy why is that?" Andy asked.

"He could be making us have them marry that zhopa Francis's kid." Mikhail said with a small chortle.

"I hear that, I would hate to be related to that guy somehow." Andy said as he raised his mug and Mikhail responded by clinking his with Andy's.

"But what about tomorrow?" Mikhail asked.

"Depends on the snow I would say." Andy said, "I have to work over one of the ghouls, the guy decided to get drunk and got a little fresh with that Claudia whore."

"Oh really?" Mikhail said as he rubbed his chin, Mikhail loved to hear about any ghoul being punished.

"Yeah, called her all sorts of lovely things and then told her to get down on her knees and... you get the point." Andy said with a smile.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Well, has to be damage to the offending bit," Andy said and took a quick gulp from his drink, "so I guess I'll be cutting out his tongue, or ripping it out of his mouth."

"Ah, very good." Mikhail said, "You will have to tell me all about it, you know I have some good news for you."

"Oh really, and what is that?" Andy said with interest.

"You remember Friedrich Himmelberger?" Mikhail said.

"Yeah the clock-maker right?" Andy asked, "What does he have anything to with me, is he making me a cuckoo clock?"

"Nyet," Mikhail replied, "those take too long for him to make and are quite expensive you know."

"Yeah, but he gave you one and he's a German from the war." Andy said.

"He's also the only ghoul I do get along with, said he was sorry for everything his people did to mine, but back to the topic." Mikhail said, "He said that he is almost finished with a replacement for your hand."

"A replacement?" Andy said, "How is he going to manage that?"

"With a lot of tiny little pieces." Mikhail chuckled, "He looked over an anatomy book and matched it with pieces of metal, really is a masterpiece. It needs to be implanted though, works using your muscles and nerves."

"That's crazy." Andy said with a smile, "But as long as it doesn't shoot out a little bird every hour I'm fine with it."

"Oh, I get it, like a cuckoo hand!" the Eastern European laughed heartily as he slapped Andy on the back.

"Yeah, hey its late and too cold for you guys to walk back with the kids. You can stay the night, spare room has plenty of sheets and we have a heater in there."

"I appreciate your hospitality Andy, you are welcome to come to our home as well my comrade." Mikhail said as the two men got up and walked towards the rooms.

"I like you Mikhail, not because I have to or anything because of our kids' arranged marriage, but because you don't care about what I am." Andy said as he shook Mikhail's hand.

"You are good person Andy Bruss." Mikhail said, "You may be a werewolf out here," the man said while indicating Andy's body, "but inside you are good man."

The Bruss residence soon grew quiet and the last of the lights on the smaller road leading to all of the human slave quarters shut off. Inside the mansion the vampires and other ghouls were busy preparing for a good night out, the cold mountain air wouldn't bother them as they would be taking heated vehicles out to Portland, Oregon which was only 50 or so miles away from them. The storm wouldn't bother the trained drivers who had lived in the area for over a hundred years of their unnatural lives. Claudius enjoyed Portland, and in fact laughed at how the people would sometimes say "Keep Portland Weird", his small group would keep it weird enough for them.

halonachos wrote:

Catos wrote:
Prodigy: Arcane Mage, Bearer of Ill Omen (can shift bad luck onto anyone he wishes), other as of yet undiscovered powers due to being a truly ancient vampire.

Wait a second, I thought that mages were a human only class.

They are..hmm..must have missed that.

-OP: Daniel Boone-
-Location: Mekong River-
-Mekong River-
-MT: SAO-(Search And Observe)
________________________________________________________________________

”Haymaker here, We are in the Alpha-Lima, Repeat, in the Alpha-Lima requesting confirmation of Magnum, repeat, requesting confirmation of Magnum, C-M-D, over?”

“Haymaker, Rouge One, Rouge One.”
RTO James ‘Tex’ Lister turned the radio off.

“Green light.” Said the lanky Texan, stowing the receiver into it’s bracket.
The twelve-man team stood up, they were wearing the ‘Tigerstripe’ camo common for LRRP scouts. Their faces were covered in a drab green and brown oily pastel with stripes of black thrown in, the jungle was sweltering; massive leaves reduced visibility to only about ten feet in any direction.

The Commando team however, treated this as only a minor encumbrance.
Derrick Moss got to his feet, brushing off the happy few insects that were draining his blood. He nodded.

“Alright, this is the deal, the Cambodian border is just about twenty feet in dat direction, got dat?” said the squad leader, a big black man from New Orleans named Joe Marko, he looked around, his eyes searching for any unspoken questions.
He found none.

“Dats good,” Joe turned to a smaller man, a man wearing a boonie cap as opposed to the helmets that the rest of the MACV SOG team preferred.
The man was Named Hue Nuygen, the group’s Kit Carson scout, he used to be Vietcong, like all other KC scouts, he knew the jungles like the back of his hand.

“Lead on, Hue.” Said the squad leader.
The socut nodded, he never spoke much, but he had proved himself loyal many times over.
The group hiked through the jungle for what felt like hours to Derrick, but in reality was only about half an hour, they were passing a small outcropping of rock that jutted out from the ground when the squad’s GPMG gunner turned To Derrick, he was a small-ish Hispanic man, he came from the Bronx if Derrick recalled correctly.

“You ever fought the VC before?” he asked, shifting the grip on his M60 ‘Pig’ machine gun.

“Yeah,” said Derrick, “And lemme tell ya,” he looked over at the gunner while maintaining the same pace he had been keeping through their wilderness trek.

“If you haven’t fought before…just…kill ‘em, no hesitation, because if you stop and think about that bastard’s family and his life, he’ll have put his bayonet in you gut by the time your done. He wont care about your family.”

The gunner looked a bit taken aback. “Jus, you know, bang, no prisoners?”

“Bang.” Derrick nodded. “Bang fething bang bang bang.”
Derrick turned his head again so it was facing back to the path at hand, more of a deer trail, he though.
He turned his head again, looking back at the Hispanic soldier.

“How come your with M-SOG and you never killed a Vic before?”

“I’m a good shot.”
Derrick nodded, he hoped so, lord, he hoped so he had been shot god knows how many times and al because he was a wolf…He lived, it made him feel guilty, it really did, when you get a ‘second chance’ at life, hell, unlimited chances, but your squaddies don’t…not something he liked living with.
One of the many things he hated living with.
Of course, he had no idea about what would happen if he was shot somewhere very vital, say the heart, the head or the kidneys.
Derrick pulled his thoughts away from the moon, someone was saying something.
The squad had stopped. Derrick dropped into a crouch, Joe was signaling the rest of the squad to do likewise.
One of the other operatives, Sully, a man older than a lot of the kids here, he was from Alabama, if Derrick recalled correctly. Was making the signal for ‘arrived’

Derrick looked into the greenery again, about twenty meters away was a small path.

The Ho Chi Mihn Trail.

The signal for “Fan out.” Was given and Derrick crawled over the brush, pulling himself under a large fern near the trail.
All was quiet, not a sound came from the woods aside from the animals rooting in the brush.

snap

Derrick’s head did not move a centimeter, not even breathing, he saw a flash of light from across the trial, a semaphore signal, Derrick slowly removed a very small camera form a waterproof case strapped to his belt and lifted it to his eyes.

snap

Derrick could hear the sound getting louder, after several seconds of staring through the lens at nothing, Derrick lowered it a few inches, a foot landed in front of his face, it was wearing what looked like sandals and black pajamas. A small knife was shoved haphazardly in the rope around the ankle for easy access, the foot lifted and landed again several paces away.

Derrick did not breath, even blink, he lay there, stone still as more feet passed, some wearing boots, some dragging rifles behind them.
Once, a pair stopped, there was some rapid talking in rapid Vietnamese before one answered somewhat angrily, Derrick tried to mentally translate what they were saying until he felt something move across his shoulder and across his neck, Derrick’s eyes flicked to his shoulder for the barest fraction of a second, a Carpet Viper was casually slithering over his shoulder blades, Derrick bit down on his tongue to stop himself from flipping out, the little reptile took it’s damn time. It waited for several seconds before it slithered off, vanishing onto the brush, the voices above had stopped, it seemed one had given a direct order and the other one had complied somewhat resentfully, the feet continued along the path.

Derrick waited until the last foot passed followed by a wooden rickshaw in wich clattered as if it was loaded with provisions and ammunition. Derrick waited several seconds until he saw the flash from across the trial, Derrick slowly reached out with his arm, the arm laying right across the path, the camera pointing at the retreating backs of the Vietcong. Derrick snapped one picture and placed it back in the pouch.
The squad waited for a full fifteen minutes before decamping, and getting the feth outta dodge.

“You get the images?” asked Joe to Derrick while they trekked back over the Vietnam border.

“Yeah.”

“good,” said The man. “We can map dis area now. By the way, how was that snake?”

Derrick shrugged, he liked snakes, aside from any snakes in ‘Nam.
“Carpet viper, I was scared shitless.”

“I hate snakes, one ‘o dem bit me as a kid.” The big black man said, adjusting the m79 that hung off his backpack. “I was rushed to de hospital, but my finger had to come off.”

Derrick looked at his sergeant’s left hand, the middle finger was indeed, missing.
“feth, why’d it have to come off?”

“Staph had set in, the snake was non-poisonous, but dat thing had a mouthful o’ Staph. I’s extra mad cause now I can’t give two people the
Finger at once. Ha.”

“Hah.”
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Derick awoke, he shifted his position on the discarded hay bags of flour that filled the old granary that filled the position of hideaway until the two could get on a plane. Reaching up to his face, Derrik pulled a packet of cigarettes from the headband of his ca and extracted a mach from his breastpocket. He stuck the it of wood to the packet and lit the tube of paper, rain poured outside and got the inside of the poorly-maintained place as damp as a sewer as well, Derrick was lucky that the place he slept in was high and dry, Removing a notebook from another pocket, he jotted a few items down and replaces it, the light on the end of the cigar flared briefly and died, Derrick turned over and went back to sleep.

FITZZ wrote:

halonachos wrote:

Catos wrote:
Prodigy: Arcane Mage, Bearer of Ill Omen (can shift bad luck onto anyone he wishes), other as of yet undiscovered powers due to being a truly ancient vampire.

Wait a second, I thought that mages were a human only class.

They are..hmm..must have missed that.

In that case what should I do to change it? He does have some magic powers so how would this be represented?
Anyways im gonna start on a post now. Should be up later today.....

Catos wrote:Okay right im signing up. Get me on board!

Player; Catos

Character; Jimmy Armstrong

Race and clan/archetype; An ancient and supremely powerful Vampire clan, now eradicated of which he is the sole survivor.

Physical Description; Black spiky hair with red highlights. Athletic and lithe build. Wears red jacket and black leather jeans and a punk belt

Equipment; Silver capped nails, Uzi, short blades.

Back story; Jimmy was turned into a vampire at age 21, millennia ago on a Friday 13th and has been wandering the world since. Following the events in Empire City, Jimmy fled the country to prevent his luck from permanently scarring the area. He briefly arrived in Prague looking for a thrill but again only succeeded in causing suffering. Since then he has been travelling the world alone, experiencing new life, civilisations and boldly going where no vamp has gone before (probably), and decimating the local population almost every single time (it wasn’t on purpose, honest!). He has been present at most world catastrophes and blames himself for most. The most recent place to fall under his bad luck is where he is now staying, in London. He has accidently succeeded in causing mass riots in the local area. He has recently met up with an ex-hunter who, through a series of “accidents” that Jimmy is reluctant to admit to, has given up secrets involving the apparent identity of the person that turned him in the first place, apparently travelling with two werewolves. As part of his first ounce of good luck in millennia, he has managed to trace them down to the place where he is currently staying; London, England. He hopes to meet with his “vampire father” and demand some explanations for his doomed fate, to bear awful luck for his entire existence. He is also trying to attain the location of Sky “Vegas” Henderson, someone involved in the death of his partner, Ramona.

Other info: Following in the footsteps of his old love interest (now ex-love interest following her death at the hands of Hunters), he has begun to read the entire works of Shakespeare (his favourite is The Merchant of Venice of which his favourite character is Shylock).

Virtue- Light Side- Jimmy in his usual state is usually cool and calculated and generally calm

Vice- Dark Side- When Jimmy gets very sad or becomes very emotional he could “flip” revealing his dark evil side and becomes a merciless killing machine.

-Bad Luck- Jimmy was turned on a Friday the 13th and as such has unnatural bad luck. However, he has the strange ability to shift his luck onto other people and has found a way to radiate his misfortune father than suffer from it. This does however mean that anyone around him, friend or foe is in grave danger…..

Special Powers: Mind Control, Changing into Mist, The
Prodigy: Arcane Mage, Bearer of Ill Omen (can shift bad luck onto anyone he wishes), other as of yet undiscovered powers due to being a truly ancient vampire.

Heh heh, read and weep silly...

Catos wrote:

FITZZ wrote:

halonachos wrote:

Catos wrote:
Prodigy: Arcane Mage, Bearer of Ill Omen (can shift bad luck onto anyone he wishes), other as of yet undiscovered powers due to being a truly ancient vampire.

Wait a second, I thought that mages were a human only class.

They are..hmm..must have missed that.

In that case what should I do to change it? He does have some magic powers so how would this be represented?
Anyways im gonna start on a post now. Should be up later today.....

Fitzz forgot to transfer the Black and Blood magic list from BM II I think, those are vampire spells.

A list of Black Magic spells...

Temporal Flux-A character with the ability to use Black Magik surrounds themselves with an Unholy Aura which warps reality,granting the user the ability to attack with supernatural precision.
This power is used at the start of any player events,if sucessfully cast it enables the caster to re-roll all rolls to hit and to wound.

Master's Lure-Ensnared by the Black magicians powers...those affected by this spell find themselves in thrall to his will.
This power is used during any payer event,if successful it grants the Black Magik user the ability to enthrall (for one combat phase) one opposing PC or NPC,who must pass a LD test to resist the effects.

Revelation of Flesh-The Black Magik user unleashes a writhing ball of Demonic power which tears it's targets flesh from it's bones.
This power may be used in any player event,if successful it counts as a shooting weapon for the black magik user (using his/her BS) and has the following stats..
S-8/AP-1

Breath of the Pit-The Black Magic user unleashes a typhoon of Noxious energy covering it's opponent..
May be used in any player event shooting phase.
The Black Magik user must pass a magik test,if successful,this spell acts as a template weapon,any characters hit suffer one wound on a D6 roll of 4+ with no save allowed.

Putrefy-Offering Praise to it's foul God's,the Black Magic user spews forth a disgusting miasma upon it's foes.
Used during any phase of a player event,if successful,the Magik user hit's all enemy targets with a ST-3 hit,saves apply.

- Devolution- The Black Magik use unleashes a flash of swirling energy wich envelopes the target PC or NPC,resulting in unspeakable mutations and madness.
This spell may be used once during Player combat,the Black Magik user selects a target PC/NPC and a magik test is taken...if successful a D6 is rolled...if the result is higher than the target PC/NPC's toughness the PC/NPC suffers a mutation/madness chosen by the magik user..(more on this later).

Entropic Lash -The Magik User blast at his foes with an evil lightning...
Used during any Player event,if magik test is successful Magik user selects target PC/Npc..and the following attack counts as a shooting attack with the following profile..
ST-4/Ap-3/ AS-3..
All saving rolls apply.


BLOOD MAGICK SPELLS

EXSANGUINATE
The Sorcerer forces the blood within the target's veins to burst forth in a horrifying display as blood streams from every available orifice. To use this spell, the Sorcerer must succeed on a magick shooting attack. Exsanguinate has the following profile:
Range: 24"/Assault 1/AP-3/S-7

CRIMSON MIST
In an hour long ritual involving the 'death' of the caster, the Sorcerer becomes a roiling cloud of Vitae, able to possess the bodies and minds of creatures. Vampires can travel in the daylight in this form, but find a host within an hour or suffer the normal effects for being caught in the sun. A creature in the thrall of a Sorcerer is under his total control, performing any action regardless of the danger to their own person. If the host is killed, the Sorcerer is forced back into his mortal form and suffers 1 Wound from psychic backlash.

halonachos wrote:

Catos wrote:

FITZZ wrote:

halonachos wrote:

Catos wrote:
Prodigy: Arcane Mage, Bearer of Ill Omen (can shift bad luck onto anyone he wishes), other as of yet undiscovered powers due to being a truly ancient vampire.

Wait a second, I thought that mages were a human only class.

They are..hmm..must have missed that.

In that case what should I do to change it? He does have some magic powers so how would this be represented?
Anyways im gonna start on a post now. Should be up later today.....

Fitzz forgot to transfer the Black and Blood magic list from BM II I think, those are vampire spells.

A list of Black Magic spells...

Temporal Flux-A character with the ability to use Black Magik surrounds themselves with an Unholy Aura which warps reality,granting the user the ability to attack with supernatural precision.
This power is used at the start of any player events,if sucessfully cast it enables the caster to re-roll all rolls to hit and to wound.

Master's Lure-Ensnared by the Black magicians powers...those affected by this spell find themselves in thrall to his will.
This power is used during any payer event,if successful it grants the Black Magik user the ability to enthrall (for one combat phase) one opposing PC or NPC,who must pass a LD test to resist the effects.

Revelation of Flesh-The Black Magik user unleashes a writhing ball of Demonic power which tears it's targets flesh from it's bones.
This power may be used in any player event,if successful it counts as a shooting weapon for the black magik user (using his/her BS) and has the following stats..
S-8/AP-1

Breath of the Pit-The Black Magic user unleashes a typhoon of Noxious energy covering it's opponent..
May be used in any player event shooting phase.
The Black Magik user must pass a magik test,if successful,this spell acts as a template weapon,any characters hit suffer one wound on a D6 roll of 4+ with no save allowed.

Putrefy-Offering Praise to it's foul God's,the Black Magic user spews forth a disgusting miasma upon it's foes.
Used during any phase of a player event,if successful,the Magik user hit's all enemy targets with a ST-3 hit,saves apply.

- Devolution- The Black Magik use unleashes a flash of swirling energy wich envelopes the target PC or NPC,resulting in unspeakable mutations and madness.
This spell may be used once during Player combat,the Black Magik user selects a target PC/NPC and a magik test is taken...if successful a D6 is rolled...if the result is higher than the target PC/NPC's toughness the PC/NPC suffers a mutation/madness chosen by the magik user..(more on this later).

Entropic Lash -The Magik User blast at his foes with an evil lightning...
Used during any Player event,if magik test is successful Magik user selects target PC/Npc..and the following attack counts as a shooting attack with the following profile..
ST-4/Ap-3/ AS-3..
All saving rolls apply.


BLOOD MAGICK SPELLS

EXSANGUINATE
The Sorcerer forces the blood within the target's veins to burst forth in a horrifying display as blood streams from every available orifice. To use this spell, the Sorcerer must succeed on a magick shooting attack. Exsanguinate has the following profile:
Range: 24"/Assault 1/AP-3/S-7

CRIMSON MIST
In an hour long ritual involving the 'death' of the caster, the Sorcerer becomes a roiling cloud of Vitae, able to possess the bodies and minds of creatures. Vampires can travel in the daylight in this form, but find a host within an hour or suffer the normal effects for being caught in the sun. A creature in the thrall of a Sorcerer is under his total control, performing any action regardless of the danger to their own person. If the host is killed, the Sorcerer is forced back into his mortal form and suffers 1 Wound from psychic backlash.

Yup...my bad, this is the list of " Vampire spells"...you'll have to pick from here Catos.

Cool thanks ! Does that include the black magic spells?

Catos wrote:Cool thanks ! Does that include the black magic spells?

Blood Magik ..