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Game System

World of Darkness



Full Description

The World of Darkness resembles the contemporary world, but it is darker, more devious and more conspiratorial. The dichotomy between rich and poor, influential and weak, powerful and powerless, is much more pronounced than in the real world. Decadence, cynicism and corruption are common. Humans are unwitting victims or pawns of vast secret organizations of supernatural creatures. Vampires, werewolves and wraith —among others— struggle with internal factionalism and against other species in secret wars of intrigue for control of reality. The battles in these wars may last centuries, beyond the realization or comprehension of ordinary humans. This status quo is recently threatened by the rise of a global Technocratic cabal (and/or an animistic spirit of stasis and control) intent on monopolizing the power of belief and destroying all traditional supernatural societies.

*This is not a 'by the book' World of Darkness game.  While a lot of themes and events may be recognized by players, anything and everything can and will be changed to best suit the need of the story.

  1. What's new in this game
  2. That stung. Meek. Scared. Content. Maya bristled internally: she wasn't those things, wasn't content, wasn't satisfied with the course her life had taken. ...But, a tiny voice reminded her, she had accepted it, hadn't she? And wasn't that basically the same thing as not being bold enough, or brave enough, or even resolute enough to do anything about it? And here was a Machiavellian goddess in the flesh, offering to make her more, somehow, than she was. Even in the midst of all the fearful strangeness, that part rang true. It had weight, meaning, beyond what sounded like an extremely eloquent sales pitch, or the gilded and engraved invitation to a Faustian bargain... Which, Maya reflected for a moment, it probably was. And yet, knowing that- that something was very wrong, that she couldn't possibly trust what she was seeing or hearing, that these kinds of offers in books always ended badly for the protagonist who succumbed to temptation- made her no less inclined to listen. A more resolute hero would politely refuse the beautiful, black-taloned harpy now and bear the burden of the potential consequences. A braver one, certain of his own ability, may laugh and tell her where to go, and where to find him if she had a problem with it. A bolder one might use his own irresistible presence try to turn the tables, seducing the seductress for his own amusement and edification. Maya... wasn't a hero. Which begged the question: What am I, then, that she wants to change me? "I believe you," she replied softly, studying the empty space where D'Sombra's reflection should be next to hers. "You're a woman with the wealth and the will to do almost anything- I realized it the moment I met you at the party. And now you've come all this way to meet me, to use your own time in order to speak with me. So, why?" the young bibliophile asked quietly, turning back to the raven-haired, dark-eyed temptress before her. "Why would you offer to do this for me?"
  3. "Good time," D'Sombra replied. The shadows slithered across the floor and slithered up her legs, under her evening down like ink washing away from her body, but in reverse. It was impossible, wasn't it? It licked her skin devouring her dress and before her eyes the shadow wove itself into new clothing, sleek and tight black vinyl pants and a stylish black turtleneck. Her belt buckle was a matte black... like the shadows simply solidified themselves into her new attire. "Bad time. I assure you dear, I'm a bit of an expert on the subject and there no such thing as either, there is only time." The moonlight now shined a reflection off her new glossy second skin. Maya noted she kept the heels, which was a good call because they were just stunning. "Yet here you are, working your ass off feeling lost and confused. Unappreciated and uncomfortable..." Maya jumped, startled as she felt D'Sombra's finger tips gently slide from Maya's shoulder down her arm. The ancient Spaniard's whisper was a seducing tone in her prey's ears. "...in your own skin." Maya slipped away, twisting to face her uninvited guest and looking over her shoulder to where she stood a breath ago and pondering how she had gotten behind her. No one moved that fast. It was a blink, a breath, it was... "Allow me to share with you my expertise, Maya, love. Time is neither good nor bad, it's all relative. What you see as good, I may see as bad, and so on, and so on... let the philosophers debate until the end of it for all I care, Lord knows I'll still be here. For you though, time is fleeting. Days tick by and they become weeks, into months, into years... and what, Maya?" Her apartment crumbled about her, it was melting away like a black candle. The furniture, the counter tops, the fridge... her cat! Then there was nothing. Despite the awful blackness that consumed her Maya could still D'Sombra clear as a well lit room. The puddles of inky blackness that were apartment flowed in reverse now, moving upward and forming shapes as it did, solidifying and gaining color. Walls with art, obsidian mannequins who took on color and began to move and walk about on their own and then Maya realized... she was back at the Gala. She took a step back as a strange dizziness came over her as the absurdity of what was happening and her heels clacked on the hardwood floor. Clacked? She looked down and she was no longer in her pajamas. Now she was in designer heels in a flowing black evening gown that exposed far more than her modesty ever would have permitted. She caught her reflection in the window and she was all made up, and... she was gorgeous. D'Sombra stepped towards her, moving past a server and slithering around a lawyer or accountant, or something. "And I'll tell you what. Time simply is. It can be used wisely, or it can be wasted. So I ask you: why are you wasting yours? You know you were meant for something more. You can feel it, like a pull, like a dream just on the end of your perceptions but you can never make it out. Every time it takes form it slips away." She stood before Maya now, close as a dance partner or a lover. Ho long had it been since Maya had one of those? Either of those? Days, weeks, months... a year? D'sombra had a power about her, an attraction a presence that lure Maya's attention in and held it there in rapt fascination, hanging on her every word. "Look at you. You are beautiful, powerful, and you squander your days being meek and content." her lips were close to Maya's, every word a whispered seduction as her black talon acrylics gently tickled down her cheek. There she was, lips practically brushing against D'Sombra she was so close... yet in the window, still, there was only Maya. She looked beautiful, in fact, she'd never seen herself so lovely, but now she saw it... the meek, the scared... the content little Maya... "I can make you so much more..." The words entered her ears like a promise of a trusted friend or lover and seemed to echo in her mind.
  4. What? A switch in her brain flipped from annoyance to complete confusion; the calm voice of Maya's rational self reminded her that she was smart, she was educated, and this? This was not normal. Sure, she acknowledged, it wasn't "Shrek and the talking rabbit in the library" not normal, but she knew she'd locked the door when she came in. How on Earth did D'Sombra find out where she lived, much less get into the place, and so soon after the party? Something wasn't right- something more than the fact that the gorgeous, predatory woman had very clearly had no reflection. That... It could have been an optical illusion, something to do with angles and the way light could be distorted. Not her field, maybe she could find a book on the subject. ...But that was for later. At the moment, the best-dressed velociraptor she'd ever seen in her life was re-enacting the kitchen scene from Jurassic Park right there in Christian Louboutin heels in her apartment. She couldn't remember getting into her pajamas, but she did suddenly feel woefully under-dressed. In her own home. How did that even make sense? ...As if any of this does, she sighed inwardly. "Sorry, Ms. D'Sombra, you seem to have caught me at a bad time," she began, bare feet quiet on the cool floor. "I hadn't really planned on having guests once I got home." Despite that, though, and despite knowing she should politely but firmly see her visitor to the door, Maya was curious. How? Why? There had to be a reason D'Sombra was here, instead of wining and dining some foreign dignitary, counting her warehouses of money, or bathing in the blood of a lovely young virgin to preserve her beauty. Sure, the scene at the gallery had been a little unusual, but surely not so unusual to a glamorous socialite that she'd track a person down and just waltz into their home to chat. Glancing around the small studio apartment that seemed somehow alien and not a little ominous at the present- otherwise a fairly typical furnished offering for the area, and within a reasonable distance of work- Maya considered the question she'd been asked, and the comment that preceded it. "To answer your question, though, since you've come all this way... Sure, almost everyone wants more. That's why we work, try to build relationships with people and get an education. We'd just sit around and do nothing, otherwise." She paused for a moment, and then added, "Although, if you're asking about the apartment, really the only thing I'd change is my upstairs neighbor." And maybe the security, for crying out loud.
  5. ...and there was Ravenna. Leaning in the door, smirking deviously as the poor girl tried to get a grasp on the world after a night of drinking. Maya clutched her chest and stepped back, twisting her neck to the mirror then back to guest, then back to the mirror, then back to her. She cast no reflection! "Sorry, dear, did I startle you?" She possessed an accent now, the one she had well hidden at the party earlier. Spanish, perhaps? "I'll give you a moment to collect your thoughts," she stepped away from the door and walked into the apartments proper, where the kitchen, living and dining area all met. Her designer heels clacked on the hard floor as she moved about, swiveling her head to take in all of Maya's kingdom. "Dear Lord, how do you live like this? Don't you find yourself... wanting more?" The moonlight and dim colors of the streets outside lent some shimmer and haze to the dark apartment in the middle of the evening, but the shadows... the darkest parts of her home seemed to dance and sway and reach out. Slithering across the walls and floors like obsidian serpents always there and always swaying just out of reach and always at the very corner of Maya's perception.
  6. Startled, Maya spun on her heel, instinctively swinging at- Nothing. There was no one there, just the empty rectangle of her doorway and the dim hall beyond, keys still glinting dully in the lock. Flustered and unreasonably embarrassed, she hoped Sully hadn't just seen that- she could imagine his big, lantern-yellow eyes peering at her from his usual spot on the bookshelf, narrowed in what she could only assume was laughter. The keys jingled again as she retrieved them, then closed and bolted the door with a smooth, satisfying click of the well-worn brass latch. Sighing, she rubbed her face with her free hand, dropping the keys into a small dish on the counter nearby. Something about the D'Sombra woman, or something she said, must have gotten stuck in her brain, or else Maya wouldn't be hearing her voice right now. What was it? She mulled it over as she moved through the apartment, the pleasant fog of inebriation lifting by millimeters. So much had happened during the evening, with the drinks and meeting up with Coleen and her husband, and before that the crazy woman and Mr. Horatio Mourne, and the painting... Maya looked up suddenly, staring at her reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink. Small, frothy rivulets of lather dripped down her cheeks, and warm water gushed unheeded into the basin where she was washing her face. The painting. She'd seen something in it, hadn't she? A story... and D'Sombra had laughed. Taken her side. But... they didn't even know each other. The only people at the party she'd ever met before were Coleen, and the woman in the white dress, from the coffee shop- Oh. "Oh, fuck," Maya whispered to her reflection, as awareness suddenly dawned. The angry woman trying to talk to Mourne, the barista, was the one she'd seen in her dream. The one who fell out a window with that dark thing, that awful shape after her, and died. The one Mourne had died trying to protect. She hadn't known him at the time, but then she'd met him, and... Now his face was overlaid over the vague one she'd seen at the library, and the other woman's features snapped into place in her memory. Why hadn't she remembered it at the party?! With a quick splash of water on her cheeks to rinse off the rest of the soap, Maya grabbed the hand towel from the ring on the wall and swiped it briskly over her face. She felt sober now, or mostly so, and cold. Mason. Mourne had said the other woman's last name. Miss Mason. "Fuck." The word was an angry exhalation- angry that she was going to have to deal with the crazy woman again, angry that she hadn't remembered until now, and angry that all of this kept resurfacing with uncomfortable regularity. She was really looking forward to the warm, welcoming embrace of sleep as she turned away from the mirror to go to bed.
  7. Horatio's cheeks flushed. It was subtle, but it was there. Casey sure wasn't the beat around the bush, demure type, that was for sure. He managed a smile, a polite one that told her he wasn't goign to stay. She'd read faces in the courtroom of times and could tell a lot from their expression. "Ah, no. No, I'm sorry but I-I should get going...," he managed another, flushed smile that almost gave him a schoolboy quality charm to him. "Thank you for the wine, though." He stepped out and turned as she was closing the door. "Should you need anything, Casey, please, just call." A polite nod signified the begin of his long walk down the hallway of her apartment building.
  8. "I'm going to have to start taking notes," she said as she stepped back and crossed her arms under her ample breasts drawing Horatio's gaze to them. "I have no Idea what a jaggling is," she holds up her hand to stop the forthcoming explanation before it starts, "you can fill me in later if I really need to know. I'll call D'Sombra tomorrow and accept her invitation. But for now it's late, been a very long day, and I need to get to bed" Casey walks to the door places her hand on the knob, and looks back at Horatio, "Or are you staying?"
  9. "I don't know," he shook his head as he considered the question. "It's possible. I have my team consulting with jagglings, so, we may know more in the few days. I think she might be though. Ravenna doesn't do anything by mistake. Maya was as out of place as a person could be and if she wasn't supposed to be there, well, I know Raven. Maya would be three pints low and begging for death. Instead, she was cordial, which means she wants something from Maya."
  10. "I'll make the call in the morning," she said nodding. "That other woman, Maya, is she like me, a chosen?" There may have been a hint of jealousy in her question after all Casey had seen the way the other woman had been looking at Horatio.
  11. "She's offered to meet with you, next week." He paced a bit faster, excited that she seemed ready to go along with it. "Show up, meet, put up with her ego and attitude," he pointed at Casey and stopped his pacing. "Don't piss her off. I know that's asking a lot, I've known her for four decades and I want to press her face into a wall every time I talk to her, but a woman like her you need to play up to her ego. Swallow the pride pill and just see what you can find out. Before next Friday, we'll get together and I'll introduce you to my pack, er, my team."
  12. She rolls her eyes at the question, "Is the ocean made of water?" She drinks some water as she ponders, "Okay, this isn't going away so we go in and meet it head-on. What do you need me to do and where do we need to do it?"
  13. Went and did some Merit revamping too. Now I'm all set.
  14. You may. Keep in mind that those Merits may not kick in right away, flaws, however, will. Also, if there is a 20th book available for your chosen critter, you may use the 20th book to create your character.
  15. if we didn't take the max in merits and flaws in the original CC can we now revisit them and take merits and flaws upto the unused total in template appropriate m&f
  16. I believe I've got it all set up for Mel as an imbued Hunter.
  17. just for the record Casey will be going mage i just need some time to get that done
  18. "That's just it," he paused. "The people I deal with, and, possibly you and the other Chosen at some point, aren't exactly... well, people, Casey. Spirits, demons, angels, you name it, everyone wants a thumb in the Chosen's pie, but they're all very old and greedy and won't tell us why. They're not really the doorbell type, either." "I can imagine," Casey chuckled. "We need to know who the other Chosen are, and I think Ravenna knows." He motioned towards her with his wine glass. "She's invited you to meet with her. We can use this, if you're willing. Do you own a 'little black dress'?"
  19. Casey's cheeks redden at the puberty crack and she looks away but smiles too. She listened intently to what he was saying well aware of their physical closeness and he obvious attraction. OMG, she thought, he has animal magnatisim. She couldn't hold the giggle in. "...they're not picking up the phone." His brow furrowed at her giggle, "What is so funny?" "Nothing Horatio, " she steps close and put a hand on his chest but the laughter is still there in her eyes, "really just a stray thought." She giggled again, "I'm sorry," she says smiling up at him and losing herself in his eyes, " but if they aren't answering the phone maybe we need to ring the doorbell."
  20. Horatio chuckled again. "Well, we don't know," he shrugged honestly. "Usually, if you were, you'd have undergone your first change by now. That's where most tales of werewolves are true... we don't control the change, and... well, we don't control ourselves most of the time. Generally that happens around puberty, no offense, but I think you're a few years past that." He sipped his wine nodded. "Nice." He complimented. "She knows I'm a werewolf, yes. Most of us supernaturals keep tabs on the others. You see, just like humans, even we have our bad apples. Ravenna might be evil and conniving, but believe it or not, she's one of the good ones, but she is old, and very powerful by Kindred standards. She can influence people's emotions, lord over a room like a queen or have everyone cowering in fear of her. We supernaturals are more resilient to it, as we have our own tricks." "All I really know about you, Casey is that you are Chosen, by what or whom, I have no idea. People smarter and wiser than me do know... but they're not picking up the phone."
  21. As crazy as it sounded Casey knew he was telling the truth, and that was comforting. She began going through everything she had appeared to witness since meeting him in her mind, looking at it in a new light, like a logic puzzle where the puzzle was the lack of logic. But everything gives way to logic you just had to see it, find it. "She did something to me at the party, didn't she? D'Sombra, I mean. I was nervous about being at the party but I went full on Panic gurl when she showed up." She walks into he kitchen retrieves another water glass and a large wine glass. opens a new bottle of wine and fills the wine glass then fills the water glass with water from the filtered tap. Back in the living room she gives Horatio the wine and takes a sip of her water. Horatio observes her silently the whole time and takes the wine when she offers it. "So, you say she is a vampire, well as pretty as she was I'm still guessing not the sparkly twilight kind, so is she an Ann Rice vampire, a Stephen King vampire, or a Stoker?" She said this while turning away and taking a few steps then quickly turns back, "Doe she know your a werewolf?" Her eyes go wide, "Am I a werewolf?"
  22. Some of you may be wondering exactly where you're going to go from here... so far you're people who are seeing wierd things and have no idea where that leads in relation to you as a player... So... here goes... Pick a 'template'. You may choose from: Werewolf: The Apocalypse, Changeling: The Dreaming, Hunter: The Reckoning, or Mage: The Ascension. Simply add the particulars to your sheet and remove what things no longer apply to you (like Virtues). You are not reimbursed anything that you lose, but don't worry those things are into consideration as your character's 'grow into' the new life that seems to be knocking on their door. You can still choose things like Tribe and whatnot, but for the most part it will not come into play until later... remember, we're not using the RAW, we're making things up as we go. We don't have any bonus points to spend. We spent them in the beginning. Yes, you did. Because you were a person before you were this. Again, that will be taken into consideration later, for now, you get the bare bones because none of you are proficient on how live like a life of weirdness and strangeness, yet. Why not Vampire or Wraith? The dead cannot be Chosen. They can only be choosers. We will be going to a lot of places that are saturated in sunlight. By being a vampire you will miss about 70% of the story and frankly I'm not interested in making concessions for that 'one guy'. So... who are you? What was so special inside you that the Choosers... chose you? Go.
  23. Horatio chuckled, keeping his hands in his pockets he kept pacing about. It was honestly nice to talk about this stuff with someone other than a werewolf and not be in violation of the Silver Pact. "No, Casey. I can change my form whenever I wish, although, depending on the phase of the moon that can easier, or harder for me. Longer, or shorter. Forget what you've read, we are not forced to change on certain nights, we don't become just wolves, we have several forms we can take, all wolf related. Strong emotions can trigger a change, even some forms of magic, but by and large most Garou can change when so they choose." "Garou?" She asked, cautiously. "What we call ourselves. Garou. Most simply refer to us a 'The People'. We've been the stewards and protectors of this world since before humans we a thing." He stopped and faced her, smiling with a bit of pride. "We come from all walks of life, all manner of tribes, and we protect the world from malevolent spirits and evils some you can see, most have remained invisible to you... until recently. From evil warlocks, to corrupted fae to... well, vampires and everything in between. If it helps to process... my life is like Hellboy if we had an unlimited special effects budget, except the CGI is actually trying to kill me." "So, you're like the werecat guy in Hellboy?" She ventured a guess. "Please," Horatio snickered. "Werecats are pussies."
  24. Take a deep breath blow it out. "You are a werewolf? And your helping me? But aren't werewolves supposed to be mindless monsters who murder people on the full moon?" Realizing what she just asked, Casey in a burst of panic gets up and walks rapidly tot he window and peaks out the curtain up at the nighttime sky.

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