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1001 Dark Ages Character Concepts

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  • 1001 Dark Ages Character Concepts

    This thread is devoted to V20DA character concepts. Let's actually make it to 1001. Any clan or bloodline is acceptable.

    With all that said, DEUS VULT!

  • #2
    1. A Baali collector of reliquaries attempting to collect stray Earthbound looted during the Crusades. What does he do with bottled demons? Breaks them of course.


    • #3
      2. Your father was a grain merchant on the Crusades. He held back his grain until it became scarce to drive up the price he could get for it. However, one of the kindred among the kine was disappointed that his sin of greed had affected the herd and so you were embraced to be forever hungry as a lesson.
      Last edited by Anarade Relle; 10-23-2018, 12:28 AM. Reason: Spelling mistake


      • #4
        3, Demetrios is a Tzimisce among the Obertus Order in Constantinople. Embraced for his interest in the occult and his religous persuits, he has lived most of his life behind the walls of the Great City. Unfortunately for him, came the dreaded year of 1204 and with it the 4th Crusade. Awakened that night by the heat of flames he barely managed to escape the fire and the enraged crusaders, leaving behind his beloved city crumbling to dust. Now he must find a new home. Unaware if any of his Obertus brothers have survived, will he now turn to his Transylvanian cousins for shelter or bargain with a foreign clan for protection?


        • #5
          4. A Cappadocian whose area of expertise is the insects that feed off corpses.

          5. A Salubri who so far has survived in Europe by selling out his Clan-mates.

          6. A Toreador who lives in the wilds masquerading towards mortals as a fairy lady.


          • #6
            7. A Sorcerer in Life, embraced for his aptitude for Necromancy by a Cappadocian/Giovanni/Nagaraja/Tremere/some other Clan.
            He is now struggling to keep his Humanity despite his foul Arts and seeks to be as human as possible.
            Striving to protect the kine from fellow kindred by giving out blood and promoting the way of Humanity.
            Therefore he has converted to the Children's of Osiris and researches means to become human again and ways to produce blood without harming humans.
            Suggested avenues of research:

            Path of the Corpse in the Monster
            Revivify the cold vitae
            Seal the Gates of Blood
            Typhoons Brew
            Armour of Diamond Serenity

            He invents necromantic versions of foreign blood magic like the Akhu ritual Typhoons Brew.
            Last edited by Nonsense; 10-19-2018, 01:45 AM. Reason: Expanding the concept

            So, this Zen Master walks up to a hot dog stand and says: "Make me one with everything!"


            • #7
              8. A female graduate from the Schola Medica Salernitana (the medical school of Salerno), whose knowledge of anatomy and methods of death led to her becoming a special forensic investigator for powerful patrons. (Suggested Clans: Assamite, Cappadocian, Salubri, Tremere; Suggested Roads: Humanity, Heaven) [Taken from the late Ariana Franklin's excellent Mistress of the Art of Death tetralogy.]

              9. A Nordic seidr witch, one more interested in continuing her traditional craft than with any of the Einherjar's nearly dead religious cult, therefore able to fit in with 'modern' 12th and 13th century Scandinavian kindred. (Ravnos of the "seer" bloodline, with Auspex in place of Fortitude, or maybe Malkavian; Road of Humanity or maybe Sin.)
              Last edited by No One of Consequence; 10-20-2018, 02:37 PM.

              What is tolerance? It is the consequence of humanity. We are all formed of frailty and error; let us pardon reciprocally each other's folly. That is the first law of nature.
              Voltaire, "Tolerance" (1764)


              • #8
                10.A scholar in life, you impressed a powerful Noddist who just happened to be looking for an apprentice. What he wasn’t expecting was the fae blood that courses through your veins to make you into a Kiasyd(Maeghar). He was a good sport and allowed you to live as his apprentice. While you found his noddist teaching interesting, you realise the world is much larger than the kindred populated cities. You have made it your life’s work to study not just kindred but all supernatural creatures. Suggested base clan: Cappadocian, Toreador, Brujah


                • #9
                  11. Post Gargoyle Revolt- Virstania created her own chantry where her own direct childer and the childer of her heart and laboratory could live in peace. You are one of her embraced apprentices. You were born a criminal and must conceal your identity from any of your traditional clan mates.

                  Focus on Thaumaturgy and Auspex (Virstania doesn’t like mind control)

                  Paths of research:
                  Gargoyle development(Obvy)
                  Chimerical creations born of the ritual Populate the Night’s Garden
                  Advanced warding and concealment

                  Virstania’s Chantry:
                  A large mansion that appears to be owned by a rich shut in. No one is ever seen coming or going except servants. This is due to tunnels that allow discreet access. She has created a literal Nights garden in the sprawling courtyards and gardens of the Manse. A nightmarish menagerie of her and her Childers creations. The basement is enormous and houses the laboratories, there is very little competition for lab space. The basement is also where the tunnels leading in and out of the mansion are. The upstairs consists of bedrooms and sitting rooms. The top floor is mostly for housing gargoyles. It is also the center of the ongoing gargoyle “Underground Railroad”. This is also the final resting place of Ceoris’ famed library, a question still pondered by tremere elders in modern nights.

                  Optional “House Virstania” bloodline
                  Disciplines: Thaumaturgy, Auspex, Obfuscate
                  Weakness:All childer of Virstania have the Dark Secret flaw. And if they ever go into Kindred populated areas they must feign a different clan lineage.
                  Important facts: All Members are direct childer of Virstania, she doesn’t allow her childer to embrace. Blood bonding other memebers of the chantry gargoyle or otherwise is completely forbidden. Even by Virstania. Should the bloodline survive to modern nights the embrace restriction is lifted, but approval from Virstania is required


                  • #10
                    Originally posted by Lord_Arion_diTanserville View Post
                    (...) While you found his noddist teaching interesting, you realise the world is much larger than the kindred populated cities. You have made it your life’s work to study not just kindred but all supernatural creatures. (...)
                    Is there any particular reason you wrote the " Kindred populated cities " part ? I think that it does imply incorrectly, in the context of this post, that there aren't supernatural persons who primarily live in cities other than Vampires. And also it could be said to be, at least to an extent, incorrectly implying that there aren't many Vampires who live outside the cities ( Or to be incorrectly implying that their influence, capabilities, and reach are so small that they shouldn't be considered, compared to Vampires living in cities. ) .


                    • #11
                      12. Your family are rich merchants in Baghdad and you a student at the House of Wisdom with a particular love for mathematics and languages. Your father sent you to Bruges to personally broker a trade deal using your knowledge of Latin and Greek to negotiate. Upon arrival you were appalled at the conditions there. The waters were like an open sewer, the populace was dressed in dirty rags, and the so-called "nobility" could barely read, write or, seemingly, bathe. Even the "scholars" were without knowledge of zero! You hurried through negotiations, and was preparing to flee for the golden palaces of home when you were embraced. Seems a local had been embraced by a passing Assamite and decided you could train him on the intricacies of Muslim manners and mores before he tried to go see "his homeland of blood". So, now you're stuck in this mudhole of a city until you can figure how to travel with the limitations of vampirism. You've decided to make the best of it, though. You're working on dragging the local populace into the golden light of civilization, kicking and screaming if necessary. You might even force them to do something about that horrendous stench. What is that?

                      13. Your father already had six daughters when you were born, but the family would lose their title if there wasn't a son to inherit it. So, he did what any sane man cursed with so many daughters would do: he raised you as a boy. It was tricky holding up the charade given the general lack of privacy of the times, but you managed. As luck would have it, you preferred living as a man. You could ride, fight, and hunt as a man, things that would be scandalous for a mere woman. When you reached a marriagable age, things became trickier. How to handle this? You traveled to a city a week's journey from your home. You told the least coarse prostitute you could find your story and offered her a deal. The two of you would marry and pretend to wedded (if barren) bliss, and she would live the comfortable life of a Duchess. She was impressed by your forthrightness and refusal of social norms. She embraced you as a Brujah on the spot. In vampiric courts you are know as Sir Roderick.

                      14. You are huge. Can you picture it? No, bigger. There may be no larger man in all of Christendom and, by some blessing of God, muscular as an ox and tough as a mule. You made a small fortune wandering Europe as a mercenary. You tired of war, and found a nice town in a quiet valley. You invested your money into a blacksmith shop and nice home for your wife and children. Life was pretty good. Then war came to you. It was one of those vague dynastic struggles with a plot too complicated to follow. You refused to fight, but made a fortune secretly selling arms to both sides. The winners of the conflict came to you after, and offered you a job. There were many, many noble heads that needed removing, and they needed a man capable of doing so efficiently with one swing of a sword. (The winners and losers were all in one family, and if you don't care for your family, who will?) You accepted in exchange for a proper title, and set about your work. You traveled the realm, dropping heads like stalks of grain. One noble on the losing side saw something grand in your grim efficiency and thick muscles. Now, you serve Clan Cappadocian as a guard and soldier. You are still tired of war, but when a man has a job to do, he does it.

                      15. Oh, boo-freakin-hoo! "Poor me! I'm too rich! I have too many courtly duties to perform! I have too many lands to administer!" You were born in one of the grandest palaces in Europe, with a name that historians will still discuss a thousand years hence. All you wanted was to be in the open air, on horseback following a pack of hounds in pursuit of prey. The wind in your face, a falcon on your arm, and blood on your gloves. Those were your happiest memories of childhood. When your brother ascended to the throne you convinced him to "banish" you to a large country estate, a bachelor in the wasteland, to prevent a dynastic challenger. You happily accepted this exile, and set about reveling in the woods, rivers, and swamps of your lush province. It was an Elysian dream for you, until a monster in the night started poaching your game! The effrontery! So you hunted the monster across leagues of forest, and for your trouble, she embraced you. She abandoned you, as is the custom in your clan, yet you thrived. You spend your nights leading the hunt across hill and dale, for the sport of hunting peasants far outweighs the thrill of taking a stag. Last night, you gave hospitality to a group of visitors who are monsters like you. One, a peasant who calls himself "Gangrel" says you are broodmates, though you greatly prefer the company the one who hails from the House of Ventrue. He has spoken to you of a hidden spiritual order fit for kings, and you are intrigued.

                      16. You were a simple (in several senses) peasant in Amalfi, the bastard son of a priest you have never met. One night, you know not why, a vampire recruited you into Clan Lasombra. Your sire is a priest who insists you call him "Father" rather than the more usual "Master". (No, you have not figured out this mystery for the ages.) You were not fit for their courtly manipulations and inscrutable manners. Within a decade the elders had granted another the right to diablerize you. Entirely by accident, you managed to burn down the inn where you were attacked, with your assailant inside. In revenge, a lover of the first also sought your blood, and was destroyed when they fell from a cliff during the fight. And so it went. You have had no less than eleven writs of diablerie granted against you, and every time you survive through the most amazing luck. Blocks of granite fall from cathedral ceilings, wild animals suddenly defend you, rogue waves wash the attacker out to sea... once lightning struck down your pursuer. The Amici Noctis has made a decree. They do not claim to know whether you are a strategic genius masquerading as a simple bumpkin barely brighter than a village idiot, or if the devil Himself has chosen to place a simpleton under his protection for entertainment purposes, but no more permissions will be granted to seek your blood. They just can't replace the casualties fast enough. (Note, buy Luck, Charmed Existence, and Mentor 5. Mechanically, buy high combat skills, but define the effects of the combat as the sheer luck of a fool.)

                      PS: In researching some of this, I came across a useful resource for VtDA. Here.


                      • #12
                        17. You are a lady of ethereal grace, razor wit, and iron will. Had you been born in different times, you would surely have been a national political leader or captain of industry. Instead you were born the bastard daughter of a swineherd. Through grit, determination, and the occasional removal of rivals by means fair and foul, you married well and gained a position as a scullery maid in a noble house. Your husband died of some plague or other, and you really came into your own. Now a widow, you carried the presumption of propriety and moral uprightness. This allowed you access to more of the court, as you were beneath their notice. Except, for the Lord of the Manor who used you as a sounding board for his schemes. In time, you became his most trusted advisor and ran most of the house's affairs in the name of the Lord's incompetent chamberlain. The more influence you were granted, the richer and more influential your Lord became. One night, you were abducted by the city's vampire Prince and embraced by his advisor. You suffered horrific visions for weeks and was nearly put down. Finally, you calmed down into a cold, calculating monster. Your new Lord has not yet realized that you have all the answers to his problems, but he will. If not, maybe this city is ready for a Prince who is a Malkavian fledgling?

                        18. You had been a lovely girl. Everyone said so. The golden hair, the azure eyes, the milky white skin, and the gentle curve of your figure. The other farmers in your village told your parents to marry you off to a knight or find you a position as a concubine to a priest. Your father, afraid to lose your labor on the farm, waited one season too long, however. The plague hit your village especially hard that winter. Your entire skin, from head to toe, peeled off and scarred no less than three times. Vast boils of pus closed your eyes for days at a time before bursting and refilling. Your very bones were wracked and twisted. Several toes, fingers, and the tip of your nose fell clear off. Each day that winter you prayed for death. When spring arrived, you emerged healthy but horribly deformed from your hovel to discover yourself the only survivor in the town. You wandered about in shock for weeks, the geese and the cattle your only companions. You felt certain the whole world was dead, and God had spared you for some worse final judgment. One night, you finally saw another person walking through the village looking for survivors. You ran out and hugged her waist crying in relief. She embraced you as a Nosferatu and took you to her friends. She seemed surprised your appearance barely changed at all. Now, you understand. You died that winter, and are now a demon in hell.

                        19. You were a foundling left on the doorstep of a nunnery. They raised you, and fed you, and taught you right from wrong. You were always a little odd, and was prone to divine visions and speaking in tongues. The Sisters showed great patience with these fits of madness, but feared it might damage the faith of the laity in the nearby village. So, they restricted you to the chapel and a room in the tower with a pile of straw for a bed. You were embraced by passing Ravnos and the sisters drove you out as the monster you were. If only they could see the visions you see of the glory of heaven, they would understand. You travel from town to town, stopping for a few nights at a time. You just can't help it, and you know it's wrong, but you use your vampiric powers to create visions for the common people. You know it's a lie, but it so fortifies their faith you can't help it. Surely, doing evil in the name of good can't be a sin?

                        20. You were born in a great city, hidden behind a tall mound in the shape of a serpent. Your mother was a priestess to the horned serpent god, and your father a warrior of your people. When an army came from the north and invaded your city, they took you as a slave and sold you even further north. It was a rocky coastline, where you were bought by other warriors with yellow hair and blue eyes. They transported back across a vast and icy sea, but shipwrecked on an island of green hills and rolling moors. You were the only survivor. You didn't know the language or the people. None of them had heard of the horned serpent or the city of mounded walls. After a few weeks, you met a strange man, even paler than the rest, who asked you about your horned serpent god and how he was worshiped. The more you spoke, the more he smiled. You became afraid, because you had made the mistake of talking religion before with these people who thought the serpent a demon. Instead of denouncing you as a heathen, he embraced you and taught that the serpent was well-known here, and it's local name was Set. Now, you are a priestess just like your mother. She would be so proud.