Vampire - The Requiem - Bloodlines - The Chosen.pdf - Vampire the Requiem - FatumTech

™

By Roger William Barnes, Ty Bjarnason, Adriano Bompani,

Brian David Gibson, Misha James Handman, David Michael Hubbard,

Paul Alexander Scokel, Sean Smith, Zachary Thomas Tyler,

Randy Ulch and Ray Fawkes

Credits

Authors: Roger William Barnes, Ty Bjarnason,

Adriano Bompani, Ray Fawkes, Brian David Gibson,

Misha James Handman, David Michael Hubbard, Paul

Alexander Scokel, Sean Smith, Zachary Thomas Tyler,

Randy Ulch

Creative Director: Rich Thomas

Production Manager: matt milberger

Developer: Ray Fawkes

Line Developer: Will Hindmarch

Lead Submission Jury: Kelley Barnes-Herman, Ray

Fawkes, Will Hindmarch and Rich Thomas

Editor: Scribendi.com

Art Direction & Layout: Craig S Grant

Interior Art: Patrick Ballestros, Avery Butterworth,

Matt Hughes, Ron Lemen, Adrian Majkrzak, Cathy

Wilkins

Front Cover Art: Todd Lockwood

Blame

Mexcellence: Oscar Garza

Once and Future Justin: Justin Achilli

Associate Tallest Little Person: Zachary Walters

Icelander Housing Officer: Pétur Ö. Þórarinsson

Too Many E-Mails That No One Cares About: Will

Hindmarch and John Chambers

Everything Bad That Happens to John Chambers’

Phone: John Chambers

the written permission of the publisher is expressly forbidden, except for

the purposes of reviews, and for blank character sheets, which may be

reproduced for personal use only. White Wolf, Vampire and World of

Vampire the Requiem, Storytelling System and Bloodlines the Chosen are

places and text herein are copyrighted by White Wolf, Inc.

The mention of or reference to any company or product in these pages

is not a challenge to the trademark or copyright concerned.

This book uses the supernatural for settings, characters and themes. All mystical and supernatural elements are fiction

and intended for entertainment purposes only. This book contains mature content. Reader discretion is advised.

Check out White Wolf online at http://www.white-wolf.com

PRINTED IN CANADA.

bloodlines: the chosen

bloodlines: the chosen

Table of Contents

Prologue: Down in the Dark 4

Introduction

California Xiao

Tianpàn Xiao

Agonistes

Yagnatia

105

Baddacelli

Appendix A:

115

Bloodlines in the Danse Macabre

Appendix B:

Duchagne

125

Noctuku

Bloodlines in the Story

Appendix C:

Rötgrafen

129

Sample Bloodline Chronicles

Index of Bloodlines

Sangiovanni

139

Taifa

Prologue:

Down in the Dark By Ray Fawkes

I don’t know where I am. There is something dripping nearby, liquid

into liquid, marking time. It’s so dark in here I can’t see nothing. I

think the sound of the drops is coming from somewhere off to my

left, but there is a crazy loud echo in here, and I can’t be sure. My

hands are pinned under some kind of heavy weight, feels like a block

of metal. If I were alive, it’d hurt to stay in this position, crouched

like this, arms back. Reminds me of some of the times I’d be under a

pile-up when I was alive, you know, all bent out of shape with a 300-

pound defensive tackle on me trying to grind my face into the field

and wreck my throwing arm all at once.

But I’m not alive.

I think I been down here for maybe three or four days. They won’t

let me sleep, the ones who brought me here. Every time I pass out, they

come at me with bells or sirens or screams, shaking me awake. Some-

times they touch a piece of wood to my bare chest and give it a tap, you

know, really give me the signal. Sometimes they leave a television on,

and it sounds like it’s stuck between stations, real loud. I can’t escape.

I roar and thrash and turn on the Fear, I mean really amp it up, but my

arms are locked down and I just can’t move, not really. When they first

put me here, I kicked like a bas-

tard, and I felt somebody’s bones

crack under my heel. Nobody’s

touched me since, which I guess

shows that they got some brains.

The hunger churns my guts, but

I don’t feed, clamping my mouth

shut whenever they drip their hot

blood on my face. I know better.

They’re trying to break me. My

name is Abbott of Nosferatu. I’m

a Hound in service to the Prince

“We are, we are.

Don’t deny us.

We will make

you strong.

We will make

you proud.”

of the city. I won’t be broken. My

Kindred will find me, and I’ll visit

some serious fury on these sons

of bitches, these vampire freaks,

and the Court of the Prince will

name me a hero. I repeat it again

and again, keeping myself sane.

I can hold out. They can’t get to

me. I won’t be broken.

A bell clangs, painfully loud

and close to my ear. I jump,

wrenching my shoulder. The

sound stops abruptly, and a low

voice speaks near me, real raspy.

“Abbott. Drink the Vitae. Join

with us. Claim the power of your

blood and stand with us.”

I turn my head away from the

sound. A whisper responds from

the other side, the side that I now

face. “Don’t turn away from us,

Abbott. We are your family.”

“Nah,” I say, trying to play it

cool. “Nah, I don’t think you

are.” They got the Fear, too, and

it’s hitting me hard, but I keep

it together.

The voice comes closer. “We

are, we are. Don’t deny us. We

will make you strong. We will

make you proud.”

bloodlines: the chosen

bloodlines: the chosen

I lunge forward, feeling the

snap and pop in my shoulders

even as my forehead strikes slick,

cold stone. The whispering voice

chuckles, somewhere off in an-

other direction. I thought he was

right there, but - he must be fast.

He must be real fast.

Shit. I shouldn’ta done that.

Now the frustration is boiling

up in me, racing straight for the

thinking parts of my brain, shut-

ting them down. I try to tamp it

back, but it comes up in a flood,

flashing through my mind. I want

to kill these freaks, just rip them

apart. They’re still laughing, and

I’m thinking about wrenching

their limbs from the sockets and

maybe getting a couple of fingers

into their mouths and ripping off

their jaws the way I did to that

one guy once and everything goes

red. Always did have a problem

with anger, I guess.

•••

The Prince had a problem.

There were signs of feeding in

one of the subway tunnels near

the end of the East-West line.

One of the Kindred smelled and

saw the traces of blood on the

tracks and told us. The transit

lines are off limits, have been

ever since the ’70s. Someone

new was in town — someone who

didn’t know the rules.

I got sent to check it out. This

kind of thing happened every so

often, some new lick bellying into

town hoping to pick up a little bit

of blood without being noticed,

you know, figuring he could live

free and get away without paying

tribute. I always got sent around

to check it out because I’m strong

and willing to do the work. It was

a good gig for me, better than

nothing. Crack a few heads every

so often, drag a poacher in front

of the Court so the powers that

be can make an example of him,

and I get grounds of my own and

a little respect. I usually didn’t

have to kill nobody, but Kindred

talk anyway.

So I went down into the station

after hours to make sure that I

didn’t have to worry about none of the living getting in the way or

maybe seeing something they shouldn’t. Couldn’t see nothing from

the platform, but then again I don’t got the Sight, so it makes sense I

was gonna have to wander in a bit. Brought a flashlight just in case,

but I didn’t exactly want to make a big bright target of myself to any-

one who happened to be there. I just jumped right down and started

walking. It’s not like I’m scared of the dark. I’m usually what people

are scared of.

Sure enough, I got maybe 30, 40 feet in, and I smelled it. Blood. Old

blood, dry, but still enough to perk up the Beast. I crouched down

and touched the rail. I lifted up my fingers, feeling the grit on them,

trying to have a look in the dark. Suddenly I got the twitch, the way I

always did when some lick I didn’t know was nearby. My back was up

right away, but I didn’t really have time to move.

Next thing I knew, there was something slapped on my face, and

somebody grabbed hold of one of my arms. I stood up fast, lifting him

off his feet and cracking him like a whip. By the time I heard him hit the

wall, there were at least two others on me. Maybe three, I don’t know.

They were pulling me down, one blowing some kind of air horn in my

ear and it hurt like a bitch, and suddenly I was thinking of those fans I

always saw in the stands, back in the day, blowing their horns and paint

all over their faces. Their hands were all over me, strong, dragging me

down, and they slapped some kinda hood over my face and were pushing

my nose into the track, and of course I flipped out, so after that I don’t

remember nothing except waking up in this room in the dark.

•••

So now I wake up again and that television is on, blasting at full vol-

ume. I can hear the static, and what sounds like a Spanish game show

“Abbott, we need you.

Come to us.

Stay with us.

We have blood for you.

Take as much as

you want.

Just ask.”

Vampire - The Requiem - Bloodlines - The Chosen.pdf

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