Friday, November 20, 2015

Old Stuff...

Here's a bit of fiction I wrote as background for a character in a game of Vampire:  The Masquerade a couple of years ago.  The character sheet stats are included just in case anyone would want to use her in a game...

I have several more game related stories.  Gaming was where I used to draw most of my inspiration.  Since its been nearly 7 years since I've regularly played a role-playing game, my genre stories have sort of petered out.  I'll try to post one a day for a little while just to keep this active.

There I go being all positive again...


Moira MacAdam

Just days after my 17th birthday, a stranger knocked on our door in the middle of what Father had said was the worst blizzard he had ever seen.  If I’d had any idea what was to come, I’m not certain I would have been so quick to open the door that night.  The wind was blowing so hard the door flew out of my grasp and practically threw a disheveled man into the room, knocking me down.

Father rushed in from the bedroom where he had been tending to my sick mother.  The journey west had not been easy on our family: my younger brother had fallen from the wagon and split his head open on a rock, dying before we’d even crossed Iowa; one of my sisters caught a nasty bug that I’m certain could be cured today with a trip to the pharmacy, but she died shortly after we entered Nebraska; and not long after we settled in Montana, mother took ill.  It took father a moment to gain control of the wildly banging door before he shut and barred it against the wind.

The stranger was nearly frozen and father and I struggled to get him close to the fire to warm up.  As he warmed up, he told us that he was a trapper named Jonas Smith and than he’d lost his way in the storm.  He asked if he could stay with us until the storm let up and despite reservations, father agreed to let Jonas stay.

While father continued to tend to mother, I busied myself with chores but I could scarcely keep my eyes off the stranger. Something about him was strangely attractive.  Of course, I know now that he had actually been watching me for quite some time.  When he began talking to me in a hushed voice about another world and a higher existence living among the creatures of the forest, I just listened politely.  I chalked up the fact that he slept during the day to his professed vocation.  Surely a trapper would be more successful stalking during the late night hours.  I’m almost embarrassed to admit to such naivety.

The storm lasted for nearly a week and Jonas and I continued to speak quietly about his lifestyle.  I really thought he was just talking about being a trapper.  When I think back about it now however, I know exactly what he was doing.  The more he talked, the more attractive his life seemed and before long, I was planning to leave with him.  Frankly, I was a headstrong, irresponsible brat.  I’d had enough of being a housewife and nursemaid at seventeen.  When I told Jonas that I would go with him, he told me that if I did, there was no going back, no changing my mind.  I told him I understood and that I was ready to begin a new life.  I remember he smiled at that.  Two nights later, he came to me in my bedroom.  It was only then that I discovered the true meaning of our previous conversations.

My Embrace was surprisingly gentle and I awoke to a whole new world.  We traveled swiftly that night back to his camp where he offered me my first meal.  The blood he gave me was in a bottle and because of the weather, was quite cold.  He said that soon, the winter would break and I would have warm blood.  For five years, we traveled the countryside, feeding on trappers and pioneers.  Jonas taught me all he knew of Kindred life; the powers, the traditions, the power games, strengths and weaknesses.

The years surrounding the Civil War are a bit of a blur.  We moved back east a bit to be closer to the fighting.  Jonas said that our feeding would be less conspicuous in the chaos of the war.  I remember that it was around this time that I learned to take the shape of a wolf and raven.

We were in Atlanta when Sherman stormed.  It’s still hard to think about this time in my unlife: my first frenzy, my first kindred sin and my eternal shame.  I’m a bit foggy on the details, but at some point in Atlanta, I started to starve.  Death was all around us and I just couldn’t bring myself to feed from corpses like Jonas did.  One night, near dawn, Jonas returned to our haven, drunk on blood from a whisky soaked soldier.  Determined to get me to feed, he had brought a freshly killed soldier.  When I refused to feed on the corpse, he tried to force me.  He was strong, but as he pushed my face down onto the soldier’s ruined throat, I felt the Beast take me in its teeth and shake.

The next thing I remember is suddenly becoming aware of warm blood gushing down my throat.  Crushed up against my chest was Jonas’ limp body.  Power surged through me as his potent vitae filled me.  Without realizing it, I had committed one of the Kindred’s cardinal sins; I had just diabolized my sire.  With Jonas’ power also came some of his memories.  Suddenly, I knew that it wasn’t by chance that he came to our door that night.  I also knew that the night he embraced me, he had killed my mother and father, draining off blood from each into a bottle.  I cried as the knowledge that my first feeding was on the blood of my parents entered my mind.

The next several decades I spent mostly alone, nearly losing myself in wolf form.  I fed from animals and the odd human who ran afoul of me.  It wasn’t until the 1930's that I felt an urge to seek out other Kindred.  I found myself enjoying the company of others like me and began to once again revel in my powers.

Over the past few years, I’ve managed to use my youthful appearance my advantage, obtaining both a high school diploma and a general college degree.

Sire: Jonas Smith(diabolized)
Nature: Survivor
Demeanor: Visionary
Generation: 8th
Embrace: 1846
Apparent Age: 17
Physical: Strength 5 Dexterity 4 Stamina 5
Social: Charisma 4 Manipulation 4 Appearance 3
Mental: Perception 5 Intelligence 4 Wits 4
Virtues: Conscience 3 Self-Control 4 Courage 4
Talents: Alertness 4
 Athletics 4
 Brawl 3
 Dodge 3
 Empathy 4
 Intimidation 2
 Streetwise 4
 Subterfuge 4
Abilities: Animal Ken 3
  Drive 1
  Etiquette 2
  Firearms 1
  Melee 2
  Music 2
          Stealth 4
  Survival 5
Knowledge: Bureaucracy 2
       Computer 2
       Finance 1
       Investigation 2
       Linguistics 3
       Medicine 1
      Occult 3
Disciplines: Protean 4 Animalism 4 Fortitude 4 Potence 3 Obfuscate 2 Celerity 1
Background: Generation(8th), Age 2, Resources 3, Allies 2
Humanity: 6
Willpower: 9
Blood Pool/Max per turn: 15/3
Merits: The Gift of Proteus 4pts (Clanbook Gangrel pg 37)
           Inoffensive to Animals 1pt
           Ruse of the Wolf’s Clothing 2pts (Clanbook Gangrel pg 37)
Flaws: Dark Secret 1pt
Allergic: Alcohol 2pts
Patricide 4pts

Image: Moira is a generally attractive looking woman.  The Beast has left its mark on her however.  Long hair grows along her forearms, forcing her to wear long sleeves.  Additionally, her eyes react to light as those of a wolf, giving a green reflection and she tends to wear lightly tinted glasses to hide the effect.  Her usual outfit is comprised of low-riding jeans ,navel-baring shirts with flowing sleeves and running shoes.  Most of the time, she keeps her long, blonde hair tied in a loose ponytail, but she has from time to time had it cut stylishly for events or just simply for a change.

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