recursal/Fanatic-Fandom huggingface dataset:
Sophie

**Sophie** is a Bastet.

## Biography

Things seemed simpler when you were just a cat, but then again, you never liked simple. On the contrary, you enjoy a puzzle. That's how you met your mentor, and discovered what you really are.

It was the old man who turned you human. At least you thought he had during that long winter you spent together in his cabin.

Well, he offered you a fish, and what were you to do? It was a young and hungry time, and you were bored. To amuse yourself, you made patterns in the snow and watched rabbits try to figure them out.

When that got old (which it quickly did), you tried it out on the old man. Surprise, surprise, he understood the riddle, and left you another one shaped from snow.

This continued until the day he offered you the fish. When he led you into his cabin, it felt like home. Through the long winter that followed, it was.

The old man seemed pretty surprised the night you turned into a woman. You wanted to be his mate, but he resisted. Like the ripples of the pond, you were different shapes of one whole.

It was not to be. He taught you, though. As the wind bayed at the wooden walls, you puzzles each other with riddle games. In each answer, there were truths about your kind.

When the thaw came, he wandered off into the woods, abandoning his cabin to you. In three winters, he has not returned, and you are bored again.

The woods have changed since you were just a cat. In the distance, you hear the blatt and blur of townsfolk. Some days, you visit them as woman, others as a cat. Each time, you test their cleverness.

The rabbits were smarter. You wonder where the old man went, and you miss him plenty. In the town, they look for easy answers.

As you know, none exist. There are only patterns in the snow.

A deep woods cat with an active mind and an informal education at best.

You haven't seen much hardship, so your outlook's pretty cheerful.

Good company is hard to find, and no one seems to understand you. Where's the old man when you need him? Maybe you just need an interpreter....

Speak in riddles that even you don't understand, then gauge your company by how folks react. Get restles when people seem obtuse.

You really want some friends, but everyone seems stupid. Maybe it's time to go back to the cabin again....

**Equipment:** Winter clothes, fractured vocabulary, walking stick.

## Stats

**Breed:** Feline

**Pryio:** Night

**Tribe:** Qualmi

**Physical:** Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2

**Social:** Charisma 3, Manipulation 3, Appearance 2

**Mental:** Perception (Hidden Things) 4, Intelligence 2, Wits (Sharp) 4

**Talents:** Alertness 2, Athletics 2, Brawl 2, Expression 3, Primal Urge 2

**Skills:** Animal Ken 3, Etiquette 2, Stealth (Forest) 4, Survival 3

**Knowledges:** Enigmas (Puzzles) 4, Linguistics (Lakota) 1

**Backgrounds:** Allies (Forest Animals) 2, Jamak 3

**Gifts:** Breakfast of Stones, Lick Wounds, Turned Fur

**Rage:** 4

**Gnosis:** 6

**Willpower:** 4
No-Prey-Remains

**No-Prey-Remains** is a Rokea and member of The Dim Shallows Slew.

## Biography

Imagine the shark in Jaws. Now imagine it bigger. No-Prey-Remains is over 30 feet long in Squamus form, and close to 5000 pounds.

In Homid form, he is more than seven feet tall and is wider than most doorways, to the point that he would have to crouch, turn sideways and bend to get through them.

He has only been to Unsea twice, and avoids it not because of any personal distaste, but because finding something to wear is more trouble than it's worth.

You are the biggest predator in the sea. If something challenges or attacks you, eat it. If a boat is making trouble, sink it. You may present a slow-witted glutton to the world, but in truth you are sick and tired of letting the dirtwalkers have their way with Sea. You have little patience for All-Seas and his talk of "understanding" the humans---the only way they seem to understand sharks is by killing them! Of course, that sort of "understanding" you could easily appreciate...

How No-Prey-Remains kept himself from being caught by fishermen before the Long Swim is beyond him.

Even as a young shark, he would have been a record breaker and he was (and is) easily tempted by bait and chum. Somehow, though, his luck held out and he completed his Long Swim without so much as a nick. He swam the waters of the South Pacific for a few years, battling and eating any threat he came across, until he drifted down to Australia and met Dreamtime's Hunter and Wave-Crest.

Flattered by their request for him to join, he banded together with them and has traveled with the slew ever since.

## Stats

**Breed:** Squamus

**Auspice:** Brightwater

**Species:** Great White

**Nature/Demeanor:** Predator/Hedonist

**Physical:** Strength 5, Dexterity 2, Stamina 5

**Social:** Charisma 1, Manipulation 2, Appearance 1

**Mental:** Perception 3, Intelligence 2, Wits 3

**Talents:** Alertness 1, Athletics 4, Brawl 4, Intimidation 5, Primal-Urge 5

**Skills:** None

**Knowledges:** Rituals 2

**Backgrounds:** Remora 1

**Gifts:** Eyes of the Wound, Killing Bite, Restraint, Sense Threat, Gulp, Undertow, Consume Taint, School's Fear, Wriggling Teeth

**Rank:** 3 (Open Sea)

**Rage:** 8, Gnosis 5, Willpower 4

**Rites:** The Rite of the Opened Grotto

**Fetishes:** None

## Quotes

*"Wait. They'll come."*

*"The humans always want to kill us. What the fuck is their problem?"*
Noah (Ratkin)

**Noah** is a Ratkin.

## Biography

You were always smarter than the other rats in the lab. The day the scientists injected you with Experimental Serum X-33, it changed your life forever. A week of debilitating disease created a mind of devious capabilities. Of course, the bad men in white coats never realized how brilliant you had become. The fools! They studied you while you ran mazes and pushed levers, but at the same time, you were studying them! Not bad for a small albino rodent, eh? Late at night, you escaped from your cage to see what they were doing to the other animals. Over several months, you learned your way around the Big Shiny Place. Such barbarity. So many horrors. Rabbits trapped on giant tables, unable to blink away the chemicals seeping into their eyes. Dogs trapped in tiny cages, whining for someone to rescue them. Chimpanzees bled and drugged and bled again. You vowed that one day you'd escape, and return to make the white coats pay. You helped other promising rats escape, and even Infected them with the plague that courses through your veins. Not far from the Big Shiny Place, you eventually set up a small colony of rats who have now infested the walls. You raided the laboratory for supplies, secretly building and making devices to help your colony thrive. Finally, the anger grew so great that you discovered your ultimate weapon: Crinos form. After the First Change, revenge was finally yours!

After a glorious night of animal liberation, you took to the road with your Kinfolk companions, fleeing the retribution of the white coats. Weeks of furtive travel led you to an underground of others of your kind. You now take up crash space with other Ratkin, and you've learned of humanity's other infamous crimes. Corporate exploitation. Environmental desecration. Victimization of their own kind. Together with your rodent companions, you will travel anywhere, oppose anyone, build any weapon necessary to make the humans pay!

Your rodent companions think you are mad. You prefer the word "visionary." As your genius grows, you're insight into human technology increases. You must use the humans' own weapons against them. First, you must punish the humans who have declared war on the animal kingdom. Next, you must raid human habitations to get the supplies you need for more weapons and devices. Finally, you must raise an army to continue this crusade, so that the rats can finally fight back! Keep hidden! The white coats are about, and there is work to do! Weakness: Technological Fascination

**Equipment:** string, batteries, dedicated backpack, shiny things, transistor tubes, hidden stash of duct tape
About

The year is 2022 but things have changed since the new year began. The world changed. Any state, country, town, city, village was completely surrounded by the ocean itself leaving any hope for escape or travel slim and far between however, any coastal city, town, or village was left unharmed as they were already surrounded to begin with since the world began. People from all walks of life end up living normal lives the best they can many don't seem to mind this and are at peace with the new world.

## Creatures

* Rokea
* Chimera
* Vampires
* Nagah
* Ananasi

## Theories

There have been some theories on why parts of the world turned tropical;

* Some form of Radiation
* God
* Chemicals
Sneaks-Around-Forests

**Sneaks-Around-Forests** is a Garou.

## Biography

You were never the strongest. Even when you became a Garou, the strongest wolves of your pack could easily drive you away.

When you were a young wolf pup, you were the bottom of the heap.

You got used to it. You were last to be fed and last to get a bone to bury.

During your puppyhood, you learned to be fast and nimble, avoiding even play fights with your packmates, who were engaged in the serious business of learning to fight and hunt.

You were always more interested in something else, although you played with the ravens often.

When the old Garou came to claim you, your pack didn't put up much resistance, and you don't miss them much either.

The old Garou was a Ragabash and alpha female of her pack. She taught you the ways of your auspice and protected you from the stronger Red Talons until you learned to fend for yourself.

She is too old to be alpha now but still runs with the pack, and is always available to give good advice or savage criticism about how you behave.

You learned that your place in the pack was a strange one.

While nobody was allowed to question the new alpha, you always seem to be able to get away with it. If ever you got too far, you can always roll on your back in the snow, offering up your throat.

You are both welcome in the pack and laughed at by it.

The pack appreciates your presence, but all hope that you will choose another Garou toward whom to direct your keen eye.

Thus, you have lots of friends, and although you will never be alpha, your voice is always heard.

You often find yourself criticizing other members of the pack --- Garou stronger and larger than you.

Somehow you seem to get away with this, and those who express their anger too physically are frowned upon.

All seem to recognize their need for you in the pack.

Be biting and critical but never confrontational. You are not a warrior and have no interest in defending yourself.

If you are threatened, simply run to a safe distance and resume your taunt.

Make accurate and (generally) constructive criticisms, not merely random insults, and always keep in mind that you have a responsibility to the pack.

That responsibility is to reveal all of the members' shortcomings so that they might be better Garou.

**Equipment:** You have a mouse, which is more a companion than a piece of equipment, which you take with you.

The mouse has been convinced that you are not going to eat it, and seems content to hang around.
Swims-Across-The-Waves

**Swims-Across-The-Waves** is a Rokea.

## Biography

He is part of a slew that is on a boat spying on Dirtwalkers in the hopes they find a betweener.

## Personality

Swims is very neutral as a way to describe him he hates Dirtwalkers and like most Rokea, is loyal to Sea and his Slew. He is an avid music listener which is why he sports a pair of headphones to him human music is 'wonderful'.

## Quotes

*"Dirtwalker music is such a wonderful thing."*

*"I see him."*
Wayne (Malkavian)

**Wayne** is a vampire from Clan Malkavian.

## Biography

In your neighborhood, there weren't a whole lot of options open for bettering yourself.

You tried a few of them, but none of them really took before you started joining in some self defense classes at the Y.

Suddenly, there was a lifestyle that attracted you --- strength tempered with wisdom.

The strength to take what you deserved, and the wisdom to tell you how.

Once you were old enough to hold down a part time job, you enrolled in a dojo to learn the real thing. However, you were still a good way from black belt before you hit a serious wall.

Your sensei said that you lacked the spirit and self discipline to progress any further, your frustration didn't help much, either.

You tried cramming to learn all the "right" answers to his philosophical questions, but even that didn't work.

You're not sure why you were Embraced at that point; perhaps your frustration was so intense that your sire couldn't resist its savor.

It didn't matter, though. The death of your body was a break through.

Suddenly you saw that there was so much more --- and you took the first step in understanding that you knew nothing.

You practice a peculiar brand of Zen Buddhism; like others of the faith, you attempt to break through the barriers of intellect to achieve enlightenment, but meditation and koans are not sufficient for you.

You deliberately practice the nonrational in thought and deed, often in ways that any living Zen practitioner would find extreme.

But the more you practice, the more that you become able to see -- and the more you are inhibited.

You cannot decide whether the Sight is the path to understanding, or whether it is an anchor around your neck.

Until the answer is made plain, you have no choice but to act.

As a result, you're far from a sequestered hermit, but an active --- if barely understood --- player in the city's Kindred society.

You're equally capable of reflecting and meditating on a course of action or koan, or acting without conscious though; and your personal conviction require you to alternate between one and the other as quickly as possible, to throw off the bounds of rationality.

You don't even use your martial skill on a regular basis anymore; it's just as important to pull a gun and shoot your opponent after exchanging a few blocks and feints.

You're willing to teach others, but your own internal struggle makes you inaccessible at times; sometimes you offer a koan as advice, sometimes you speak rationally, and sometimes you just strike your student as hard as you can.

Such is the road to understanding.

**Equipment:** Loft over a small dojo, "prayer bead" string of beads and teeth; compact car, hardwood hanbo stick

**Derangement:** Desensitization
Dillon

**Dillon** is a Rokea.

## Biography

Growing up in Harlem is a tough life, and you were one of the toughest. You had a Mom, but you never saw her around much. Your Dad never made an appearance after you were conceived.

By the time you were 12 years old you had your own street gang, but instead of looking for rumbles with the local punks, you devoted your talents to drug dealing and developing the best information brokerage on the streets. You stole what you could get your hands on to survive. It started with an occasional apple from a fruit vendor, then you graduated to clothing and finally cash and credit cards. A couple of stints in reform school only helped you hone your skills, learning tricks of the trade from your classmates.

Before too long, you outgrew your reputation. You began hearing about really weird happenings under the streets. One of your lackeys went missing, then another. It was time to find out who was invading your turf. You followed a tip and ended up deep below the subway lines in a little used series of storm drains. The smell was unbearable. Worse than the usual New York filth. Something really big must have died here. Or maybe two or three somethings. Suddenly there was a movement in the shadows. Your feet were frozen in place, as an animated horror shuffled into view. Your Change was swift and painful.

You now roam the sewers and streets in the New York night, along with the rest of the Rokea slew created by your progenitor. He looks after you much like Fagin treated the boys in Oliver Twist. Who knows, maybe he was around at that time. Now you trade information for blood, safe havens and hunting rights. You run with the three or four other kids in your gang. After about 25 or 30 years, you figure that you will be pretty damn good at what you're doing. Maybe then you can strike out on your own, find a few more brats and expand into other cities. The bigger the network, the better the hold you can have on the Kindred who think they run things. The Change has given you opportunities and abilities you could only dream about before, but has it been worth the price? Only time will tell... You are sharp and shrewd, and know the value of a juicy tip. You are also the consummate little boy brat. You carry worms, snakes, caterpillars and other critters (some of them ghouls) in flesh pockets all over your body. Nobody tells you what to do -- except for your mentor. He's the father-figure you never had, and all you've got, so you might as well try to get along with him and the other brats in the Rokea slew.

**Equipment:** Baseball cap, slingshot, bug jar, leather jacket with gang logo on back, ripped, soiled jeans, thrash band T-shirt.
Midnight Sun

**Midnight Sun** is a Mokole.

## Biography

You were hatched a lizard in the deserts of the American Southwest. Sun, sand and chomping rats were your world, until one night a gigantic creature began chasing you instead. It had two legs and smelled very bad. You fought madly, and you began to change shape, shifted until you were big as a sand dune and bellowed Rage from your beak, brandishing horns at the two-legs.

He smiled and laughed. Then he hissed at you, words that you suddenly knew. He was your friend, he said, a shapechanger, descended like you from the lost Kings whose shape you wore beneath the ten thousands suns of the midnight desert. He told you the lore and legends of the Mokole, and of your own sun sign the crazy backwards Midnight Suns. You met a local clutch soon after and tried walking as two-legs into the small town nearby. It was too noisy and smelly. Even the "reservation" where human Kin lived was nasty place. The desert had more to say.

In your human shape, you are a drifter who lurks about the fringes of a small town. As a Gila monster, you are a careful and efficient hunter in an inhospitable environment. As a Mokole, you are a star watcher, an amateur astronomer, a poet and a storyteller. Flowers are not only beautiful--but they taste pretty good after a day of cropping sage.

You tell tales of Mokole and the kings to your clutch and their Kin, and teach the young ones their great heritage. You mix Mnesis and your own imagination. After all, if you make it up, it's still a Mokole tale, isn't it? If they can tell what's true and what's false, they'll have learned to think for themselves. You are peaceful and quiet most of the time, sunning, hunting, grazing, and watching the Many Suns. When roused to action, you are a hard hitter but a little slow.

**Equipment:** Sunny rock outcrop, burrow, bunch of flowers, human clothes (cached in burrow), necklace of native beads.

## Stats

**Breed:** Suchid

**Stream:** Mokole-mbembe

**Auspice:** Shining

**Varna:** Unktehi

**Physical:** Strength 2, Dexterity 4, Stamnina 4

**Social:** Charisma 2, Manipulation 2, Appearance 2

**Mental:** Perception 4, Intelligence 3, Wits 3

**Talents:** Alertness 2, Brawl 1, Dodge 2, Empathy 1, Expression 3, Primal Urge 2

**Skills:** Animal Ken 2, Etiquette 1, Performance 3, Stealth 1, Survival 3

**Knowledges:** Enigmas 3, Linguistics 1, Rituals 2

**Backgrounds:** Allies 1, Mnesis 1, Rites 2, Wallow 2

**Gifts:** Shed, Spirits of Laughter

**Rage:** 5

**Gnosis:** 4

**Willpower:** 4

**Sun Dice:** +1 die when faced with hopeless odds
Robert (Tzimisce)

**Robert** is a Vampire from Clan Tzimisce.

## Biography

You were always of Clan Tzimisce, as were your parents and the generations that preceded them over the centuries.

Although, history remembers the Oprichiniki as cutthroats and sadists, you are far removed from their legacy.

From your mortal infancy, your Tzimisce lord saw to your training in a variety of skills.

Whether he versed you in matters of the occult or sent you to the best school of business and finance, you never doubted that you would eventually serve your benefactor as major domo or man Friday.

You did not foresee the Embrace, however. The Russian Tzimisce rarely offered the Kiss to your family, if only because they needed you in a servile position.

When the Iron Curtain fell, the Rus Fiends knew they could no longer bide from the world behind the protection of their borders, but neither were they willing to risk their unlives to venture beyond their comfortably familiar domains.

That's why your lord Embraced you.

Same job, different circumstances. You still serve your lord, but you are now a Fiend as well.

This entitles you to a certain independence that none of your mortal family enjoys, including the privilege of traveling the world.

Unfortunately, you've already encountered the loutish Sabbat during your brief existence and must pay them the same "respect" that your lord does.

Sometimes, this means participating in their backward rites or gatherings, but you need them.

They are your only hope in breaking your blood ties to your sire.

Without them, you'll never enjoy complete freedom and true independence

Some Tzimisce might say you're the right hand of your sire, but you know you act as both hands.

The centuries turned him into an anachronism, and he spends his evenings sequestered in his manse like an impotent spider that can no longer spin its web.

You are one of your lord's tethers to the modern rights.

He relies on you to oversee his financial security, to travel where he refuses to go and to deal with people he will not see.

This is dangerous, for you are intermediary, negotiator, mouthpiece and messenger for allies, rivals and, occasionally, enemies of your lord.

You know this might cost your existence, so you plan and scheme for your eventual liberation from servitude.

You are goal driven and determined, but your Embrace allows for certain freedoms you never knew as a ghoul.

Coupled with the fact that you are among a select few in your family to be given the Embrace, that fills you with a blossoming arrogance about your new existence.

With the taste of limited independence fresh in your mouth, you want more.

Your lord depends on you greatly, and that is his weakness.

A time will come when you will no longer need him.

Until then, you use the Sabbat to break the blood ties to your sire, and you familiarize yourself with all facets of his acquisitions and properties.

After all, you know them better than he does, and eventually, it will all be yours.

**Equipment:** Armanisuit, Rayban sunglasses, briefcase, PCS phone, laptop computer, beeper, Glock 17
Ella

**Ella** is a Bone Gnawer.

## Biography

Your parents were migrant workers, poor folks who never had two pennies to rub together. You grew up with them, movin' from place to place. They showed you a lor of love. As a result, you never learned to hate.

Your folks knew you were different, and you'd often spend fall and winter with your kin in the city. It wasn't too long before they showed you how you could change from form to form, and they accepted you just like your parents did.

Come to find out, your parents were werewolves just like you! Imagine that.

You love the music of the mountain people and taught yourself how to play the fiddle, the harp, the harmonica and the guitar. You love to go howling in the high mountain places.

You're constantly on the move, never staying in one city for too long.

You travel hither and yon, listening to the music of people everywhere and playing your own songs.

With your thumb and the guitar on your back, you'll go anyplace.

You are perhaps the friendliest Bone Gnawer you know. You grew up "po" but "proud" and your demeanor should reflect that.

You're good humored to a fault, although when you get mad your smile takes on a different glint.

**Disfigurement:** Loose Teeth

**Equipment:** Coveralls, white T-shirt. harmonica, road maps, three cans of cheap beer, backpack, hiking boots.

## Stats

**Breed:** Metis

**Auspice:** Galliard

**Camp:** Hillfolk

**Physical:** Strength 1, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3

**Social:** Charisma 4, Manipulation 4, Appearance 2

**Mental:** Perception 1, Intelligence 4, Wits 3

**Talents:** Alertness 3, Athletics 3, Brawl 1, Dodge 2, Empathy 3, Primal Urge 1

**Skills:** Animal Ken 1, Drive 1, Performance 3, Stealth 1, Survival 3

**Knowledge:** Enigmas 1, Investigation 1, Law 1, Linguistics 1, Politics 1

**Backgrounds:** Allies 5

**Gifts:** Create Element, Call of the Wyld, Cooking

**Rage:** 5

**Gnosis:** 4

**Willpower**: 6

**Weakness:** +1 SOCIAL ROLL DIFFICULTIES WITH OTHER TRIBES
Broken-Dog

**Broken-Dog** is a Glass Walker.

## Biography

You were born with every bone in your body broken. Gaia cursed the bones knitted of incest and made them break under even the slightest pressure. You were unable to stand, move and barely even eat. Every bite shattered your teeth, and you cried in pain as they healed again. The caern wanted to put you out of your misery, but your father knew a man that could help.

This man had no reason to help---he and your father hated each other--but neither wanted to see you die.

So the man got to work. He bound snake spirits into titanium bars and bound the bars into your bones. He replaced your teeth and claws with metal and your easily snapped sinews with silicon. When you were ready, he stood by you for a year and a day to train you and build up your muscle until you were as strong and powerful as anyone else. But all this while, you heard the stories. People like this man, this healer, were being hunted as demons across the continent. The thought of this made you burn with anger.

Now, you're a new person. Not only are you determined to save Gaia, but also to prove that the only way forward is not evil, to the very tribe who perpetually say they advance.

The news that they killed ten Garou shocked you, but you observed that the rest killed twice as many Cyber Dogs. You won't rest until they're an accepted part of Glass Walker society. Meanwhile, you revel in your newfound strength and the man deadly tricks under your skin.

You've been born again, and in far more literal a way than any shrieking Christian. Every time you stand up in the morning, shake your head in wonder at the strength of your legs. Shake with Rage whenever anyone suggests this is wrong. Show immediate caring instinct to anyone in need, though, you remember how it feels.

**Equipment:** An assault rifle hooked to a Personal Reserves fetish, large combat knife, .45 pistol, 13 photographs of your father and your builder, carefully kept in an album

**Metis Deformity:** Dependent on technology. A simple success using Jam Technology or Control Complex Machine completely immobilizes you.

## Stats

**Breed:** Metis

**Auspice:** Ahroun

**Camp:** Cyber Dogs

**Physical:** Strength 4, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3

**Social:** Charisma 3, Manipulation 3, Appearance 2

**Mental:** Perception 2, Intelligence 2, Wits 3

**Talents:** Alertness 2, Athletics 1, Brawl 4, Dodge 3, Expression 3, Primal Urge 2

**Skills:** Drive 1, Firearms 2, Leadership 2, Stealth 2

**Knowledges:** Computer 2, Politics 2, Rituals 1

**Backgrounds:** Fetish 5, Resources 1

**Gifts:** Primal Anger, Inspiration, Diagnostics

**Rage:** 5

**Gnosis:** 3

**Willpower:** 6

**Tribal Weakness:** CANNOT REGAIN GNOSIS IN THE WILDERNESS
Irvine (Samedi)

**Irvine** is a vampire from Clan Samedi.

## Biography

You began life as a simple Christian man. When you started school as a child, you could only attend half days, as you were needed to earn money for your family at home. Life for you was peaceful, but always poor. You had trouble earning money, and never seemed to have enough to get out of debt. One day you found a despacho alongside the road.

You put it in your pocket and didn't really think anything about it. When you got home, it was after dark and there was a little old man -- a complete stranger -- who asked you for shelter. You put him up in the summer kitchen. When you arose the next morning, he was gone. He came back asking for shelter for several nights. His visits were late, and one night you asked if he could come by earlier. "I cannot," he said, "But you can come visit me in the cemetery at this hour every evening." Why you were compelled to obey, you do not know. but you found yourself at the cemetery at the prescribed hour. It was then that the old man revealed himself to you as one of the Bloodline Samedi, and Embraced you in a mausoleum.

Your progenitor was a healer, and he taught you everything he knew. He showed you how to call your spirit guide, which determined what kind of healing you were talented at. Before too long, you took over the region and became known as a great benefactor. You'd cure anyone for a bit of blood. You work alone, from an hour past sunset to an hour before sunrise. Your "clinic" is in the same summer kitchen you first let your progenitor rest in. You have a couple of kitchen chairs, a basin with running water and a wooden dining room table that you use for both examinations and operations. Your tools are rudimentary at best -- kitchen knives, scissors, common pins and the like. These you keep on a sideboard in a tin can. When you perform an examination, you call on your spirit guide (a Frenchman), who possesses you and transfers his talents to you. The guide anaesthetizes your patients with a hazy mauve light. Sometimes in the middle of an operation the guide will call out in French for "More mauve light!" You have never spoken or learned a word of French in your life. You are reserved and quiet when not possessed by your guide. When under his influence, you work with a rapidity and flair that is most unnatural to your true self. You work all night, every night, helping the poor people who need you. All you ask is a donation of blood. Never accept cash for any of your work. You wear a dirty lab coat, and don't keep your office particularly neat or clean.

**Equipment:** Common kitchen tools, flashlight and extra batteries, rubbing alcohol and swabs.
Lauren

**Lauren** is a human and Shayne's girlfriend.

## Biography

### Early Life

Lauren Dobrev was born in Malibu, California to a Chumash Indian couple. As time went on she kept to herself until she met Shayne she was warned her whole life about Rokea and how hostile they can be but she saw that he was a Homid born hated by the Rokea they both fell in love and became boyfriend and girlfriend

### Personality

Many have described Lauren as "the most laid back girl", being sometimes very bubbly and kind of an airhead at times. She is often incredibly blunt without being aware of it.

She is a very prudent, dedicated person who acts as a natural leader. She is generally level-headed and calm in dangerous situations, but she isn't above falling into a panic. Momo is very kind and polite, and quite reserved, yet she can be blunt with her comments about people's mistakes and miscalculations, tending to be very direct and wishing to help her peers improve enough to become great heroes, Lauren shows further development as a selfless hero who gets inspiration from others, while also taking the role of a leader in her class thanks to her skills and intelligence. Because of her wealthy upbringing, she has a sensible and respectful attitude towards others, often being put off by discourteous behavior.

Lauren typically takes adverse situations in stride, expressing little concern for losing most of her clothing in battle, as she knows how to construct another set, and would have made her costume even more revealing were it not for restrictions on exposed skin in a costume. However, this often makes others think of her as an exhibitionist. Ironically, she is rather innocent and sensitive to vulgarity and rude mannerisms, constantly frustrated by sexual advancements from other men's crude attitude. This innocence shows that she has a somewhat casual, natural, and non-lewd view toward nudity, which explains her lack of modesty in her costume.
Kayne

**Kayne** is a Beast in Ocean: The Rising.

## Biography

Kayne was born (possibly) in 1975 and is currently 19 years old. He always thought he was human from the moment he was born. But that would soon change. He is a Makara and a loner tending to stay away from people unless confronted. What many people don't know is if he is confronted by people, he becomes his Horror a combination of man and shark with 'some fish' he usually avoids conflicts for fear of hurting seemingly innocent people.

### Personality

Kayne is a very secretive and introverted person usually avoiding conflicts most of the time he can be a very mean person especially when confronted. He loves instilling fear into his victims it makes him happy, and as such shine to the very end.

### Horror Form Description

His form as described as being a very large, heavily muscled humanoid (sometimes feral) version of a shark man but spikes jutting out of his neck he can retract if need be sometimes he transforms without them as his spikes show up rarely.

## Stats

**Legend:** Vicious

**Family:** Makara

**Hunger:** Prey

**Horror:** Shark

**Attribute:** Intelligence 4, Wits 3, Resolve 4, Strength 4, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3, Presense 3, Manipulation 3, Composure 2

**Skills:** Mental: Academics 3, Crafts 3, Investigation 3, Medicine 3, Occult 1, Science 3

**Physical:** Athletics 4, Brawl 3, Drive 2, Larceny 3, Stealth 4, Survival 3, Weaponry 2

**Social:** Animal Ken 4, Empathy 2, Expression 2, Intimidation 3, Presuasion 1, Socialize 1, Streetwise 1

**Merits:** Horrorspawn 4, Infernal Machine 2

**Health:** 8

**Willpower:** 3

**Lair:** 5

**Satiety:** 5

**Satiety Condition:** Gorged

**Nightmares:** Behold, my true form!, Run Away

**Other Traits:** Swears like a sailor 4, Birthmark 1, Smokes/ Vapes 1, Scar 1, Tattoo's 3, Shark tooth necklace 1, Long wavy hair 2

**Satiety Preferences:** Fish, The occassional human
Sheriff Byrnes

**Sheriff Byrnes** is a vampire from Clan Brujah.

## Biography

If it wasn't one damn thing in your town, it was another.

One month, you had all the n\*ggers getting uppity and rioting off the access road.

The next month it was all the pinkos and hippies from the university up the highway staging some kind of animal rights protest at the cannery.

Then some faggot march and, in the same month, the lynching after that child molester was acquitted.

Yeah, every time some group or another got a wild hair up their ass, they took to the streets.

As the sheriff, however, you kept order, because that's what the decent people of the town wanted.

A little skull cracking went a long way when people knew they should fear you and if they didn't, you and your deputies made things right for the decent people of the town.

Your fervor attracted the attention of one of these weird types - turns out she was a real life vampire.

She made you an offer that sounded like business; she wanted you to work for some special interest law enforcement arm in some city a few states away.

It sounded like a good deal, until she made you're working for some guy who calls himself the prince and busting heads when he snaps his fingers.

It's no big deal - most vampire order is basically made up of decent people, and you're just whipping the shitheads into place.

At least, that's what you tell yourself when you rise each night.

Your dedication to the law (or to the Traditions, as is now the case) draws inspiration from two sources: your own desire for order and the thrill you get from exercising your power. Even though you don't wear a badge anymore, you still have the prince backing you, so your word is still law.

Unless the prince says otherwise, of course; you don't always agree with how she interprets things. In your opinion, these vampire rules are too liberal and the whole lot of Kindred could be improved with some organization. Of course, you'd need to be the one keeping the peace...

You're the sheriff now, just like in life, and people better give that title the respect it deserves.

You lord your position over other Kindred, and you're condescending and haughty to mortals. Still, your mouth doesn't write checks your ass can't cash, and anyone who calls your bluff ends up with knuckle dents in his head.

At times, you abuse your power for perks or simple viciousness, but most of the times you uphold the prince's policies to the letter.

Without order, this whole Camarilla thing is going to fall down around everyone's ears.

**Equipment:** Nightstick, police-auction highway patrol car with civilian paint job, pepper spray, S&W Model 29, Dickies wardrobe.

## Quote

*You want to do this the easy way or the hard way? I'm hopin' you choose the hard way, myself.*
Walks-In-Grass

**Walks-In-Grass** is a Uktena.

## Biography

You grew up on the reservation, where your family owed a small shop that sold "authentic Indian: trinkets to the tourists who came in droves to gawk at men in feathered headdresses and women in beaded buckskin shirts. You hated it when people stared at you as if you were some sort of living relic. Someday, you told yourself, you'd get even with them all.

When you were 12, they came for you -- a group of proud young men and women from deep within the reservation where tourists didn't go.

They took you from your family and led you through your First Change and your Rite of Passage. They taught you about the ways of your tribe, the Uktena, but the spirits of Raven and Coyote taught you how to get even with the white man.

You returned to your tourist trap home and set about learning all you needed to know to put your plans underway. Now, seven years later, you laugh inside as you watch your schemes of vengeance come to pass.

You work as a "professional chief", standing outside the reservation's gambling casino luring gullible tourists inside to lay down their dollars in pursuit of the big payoff.

You know that the money they spend increases the income of your tribe and goes at least a little way toward paying back all that was stolen from your people.

More importantly, you occasionally identify agents of the Wyrm among the biggest spenders. You mark them for your Ahroun and Theurge friends, who see to it that they never make it home from their "weekend on the rez." In addition, you indulge in a little petty crime, running scams and cons on casino patrons. After all, why else would Gaia have made you a Trickster?

As a Ragabash, you revel in pulling one over on the sons and daughters of the Wyrmbringers. Glad handing and posturing in your "chief" costume, you laugh behind your war paint as the slot machines eat their way through the pockets of the tourists. Beneath your slick exterior, you harbor an abiding love for traditional ways -- the real ways known only to your people and to the Uktena who protect them.

**Equipment:** Professional "chief" gear (feathered headdress, tomahawk, fringed buckskin clothes)

## Stats

**Breed:** Homid

**Auspice:** Ragabash

**Physical:** Strength 2, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3

**Social:** Charisma 3, Manipulation 3, Appearance 2

**Mental:** Perception 3, Intelligence 3, Wits 4

**Talents:** Alertness 1, Brawl 3, Dodge 2, Intimidation 1, Primal Urge 1, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 3

**Skills:** Etiquette 2, Firearms 2, Leadership 1, Melee 2, Stealth 2

**Knowledges:** Law 1, Occult 2, Politics 2

**Backgrounds:** Contacts 3, Resources 3, Rites 1

**Gifts:** Persuasion, Open Seal, Shroud

**Rage:** 3

**Gnosis:** 3

**Willpower:** 5

**Weakness:** INTENSE CURIOSITY: BECOMES EASILY OBSESSED WITH LEARNING SECRETS

## Quote

*Welcome, pale-face. May the Great Spirit bring you luck in all your endeavors. Slot machines are to your left as you enter. Bingo cards are five dollars each.*
Adonis

**Adonis** is an Ananasi.

## Biography

You were born in a garden. You crawled on the leaves and the flowers as a youngling, not realizing your role in the world at the time. All you understood was that the flowers just felt...right.

Then the world changed. You became aware of a greater existence, and it shattered your view of things. You went from a simple creature leading a simple life, to a servant of a higher cause. It wasn't the responsibility that changed you, it was the loss of something you can never recover.

Now, you spend days upon days acting on behalf of the Mother-Queen, and you do so willingly and without hesitation, but when the opportunity arises you go back to your garden, and contemplate the life that might have been.

You have spent years creating this garden: shaping the roses to your will, trying to capture the beauty from your new perspective that you had from a smaller view. You work hard for Ananasi, and you work hard to reclaim your old life. You don't regret either duty, but you wish that there was a way to finish them both.

You have spent years growing a rose garden for no one but yourself. You keep it where you prefer to be: away from the city, away from the prying eyes and the grabbing hands. You would do anything to protect that garden, and those roses--anything except deny Ananasa. You are reclusive even as Damhan go, and would even be rebellious if you dared. Although your performance is never lackluster, you may yet draw trouble from your elders for your less than enthusiastic attitude.

Your time as a human is pure business: accomplishing the Mother-Queen's tasks, and nurturing and expanding your garden. Your time as a spider is "your" time; you use it to enjoy the garden in ways that humans could never understand. When you must, you leave the garden, but when your service is not needed, you always find your way back to your only home.

## Trivia

* His human form is described as a tall man with healthy pale skin and long dishwater blonde hair he also wears webbing around his waist to act as a loincloth
* His spider form is black widow but it is much larger
* He's in his early 20's
Sharon

**Sharon** is a Simba lion tamer.

## Biography

You didn't have to run away to join the circus

You were born into it, the latest in a proud family of animal tamers. Dad broke with tradition when you were young.

He believed that the old whip and chair ways were cruel to the cats.

The better way, he insisted, was to befriend the animal. To share a mutual respect.

The lions tore him to shreds before you reached 13. So much for the soft approach.

Discarding his experiment, you followed your father into the pens. The big cats learned real quick you weren't gonna take any shit, and your stormy relationship made for great theater. Beauty against beast, all that crap.

Strange things started happening soon after you began, though.

Odd dreams. You didn't tame the lions in these dreams, you became one.

Weird. Then one night, you woke up naked in the lion cage --- and they were terrified of you.

No whip. No gun. Just you. And you wondered why.

Soon you found out.

It's a secret, so far. Mom'd have 16 kittens and a biplane if she knew, and you don't think you'd like to know what the other carneys'd think.

Folks never liked you, anyway. That stare of yours. Weird. Like one of the cats, some said.

A cat on the other side of the cage.

Well, the lions knew their real place now, and the other animals do too.

You don't need your gun and whip anymore.

You talk, they listen. You've mastered every beast in the show before your 18th birthday.

Soon you start on the people.

A born lion tamer. Literally. You can't help but feel superior to your fellow carneys.

Not with what you know about them. Hey, it's not your fault you can see and hear everything they do.

Okay, so you'll sneak around a bit after dark, but hey, a kid's gotta have something to do! Deep down, you wonder if they let the lions kill your father. Most of the time though, it's all part of the game.

To train an animal, you have to let it know who's boss. And people are just animals with attitude problems.

Intimidation works wonders in your profession. Starting down a person is easy --- hell, you stare down tigers for fun!

Throw around some carney slang for flavor, and distrust everyone around you.

The circus can be a sleazy place to be a kid, and it's all you've ever known. Every town you see goes by like morning fog. Soon enough, it's history.

You're the only constant in your world. You and your cats. The ones in the cage. And the one inside.

**Equipment:** Whip, pistol, impressive outfit, bag of treats.

## Stats

**Breed:** Homid

**Pryio:** Night

**Tribe:** Simba

**Physical:** Strength 2, Dexterity (Quick) 4, Stamina 2

**Social:** Charisma 3, Manipulation (Scary) 4, Appearance 3

**Mental:** Perception 2, Intelligence 2, Wits 2

**Talents:** Alertness 2, Athletics 3, Brawl 2, Dodge 2, Empathy 1, Intimidation 3, Primal Urge 2, Streetwise 1

**Skills:** Animal Ken 3, Drive 1, Firearms 2, Melee 3, Stealth (Forest) 3

**Knowledges:** Investigation 2, Occult 2, Rituals 1

**Backgrounds:** Allies (Big Cats) 4, Pure Breed 2

**Gifts:** Majesty, Submit, Sweet Hunter's Smile

**Rage:** 5

**Gnosis:** 2

**Willpower:** 3
Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

The Lazy Lord Masters the Sword

## Synopsis

Airen Parreira is a boy who sleeps to run away from reality. People mocked him, calling him a ‘deadbeat’, but he had no wish to change. Until one day, he dreamt of a swordsman… It was a dream about a talentless man who had been training by swinging his sword for decades.
Protector-of-Peace

**Protector-Of-Peace** is a Child of Gaia.

## Biography

You father was a great Children of Gaia Kinfolk who worked in poverty-stricken areas. He was murdered by Wyrm forces when he began to increase the hope and joy in a despairing city. His brutal death shattered the safety and security of your world.

The forces of good seemed small, and unable to protect themselves. Every drive by shooting, every wife battering, every foreign war seemed to show that violence was everywhere. All the forces of darkness respected was force. The only way to stop the violence was with more violence. You prayed to Gaia for power to stop the killing. And she answered your prayers.

One moonlight night, as a gang rampaged through your neighborhood, you Changed.

You tore the gang apart as an offering to Gaia before the Children of Gaia found you to take you to Rite of Passage.

But the Goddess had provided you with your own Rite of Passage. You use your abilities to defend the innocent and the helpless.

Your father's assassination haunts you, and impels you to greater and greater risks.

You are certain that the only way to end the fighting between the tribes will be to get rid of those Garou who do not cooperate.

You believe that it's long past time to placate those Garou who do not accept the love of Gaia and the worth of humanity.

Rage against injustice. Create the peace of Gaia through any means necessary. Eliminate your opponents to end their opposition.

Kill for Peace. Peace through War. When those who work against kindness and justice are destroyed, the world will be a better place.

Mourn the need for such tactics, but insist that the ends justify the means. You especially enjoy humiliation Shadow Lords or Wendigo in combat. (They often underestimate you because you are a Child of Gaia.)

**Equipment:** Pistol, knife, motorcycle, leather jacket, handcuffs, knives, crossbow.

## Quote

*Wicked cur! You would kill all humans? You are a disgrace before Gaia.*

*The world would be a better place without your hate.*

*Stop your cruelty now or I will stop you.*

## Stats

**Breed:** Homid

**Auspice:** Ahroun

**Camp:** Imminent Strike

**Physical:** Strength 4, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3

**Social:** Charisma 3, Manipulation 1 Appearance 2

**Mental:** Perception 2, Intelligence 2, Wits 4

**Talents:** Alertness 3, Athletics 1, Brawl 4, Dodge 2, Intimidation 2, Primal Urge 2, Streetwise 3

**Skills:** Drive 2, Firearms 1, Melee 3, Leadership 2, Stealth 1

**Knowledge:** Enigmas 1, Investigation 2, Law 1, Occult 1

**Backgrounds:** Contacts 2, Kinfolk 1, Pure Breed 2

**Gifts:** Smell of Man, Razor Claws, Resist Pain

**Rage:** 5

**Gnosis:** 2

**Willpower:** 4

**Weakness:** WEAK VEIL: WITNESSES AT +5 ON DELERIUM CHART