Vampire The Masquerade : Chicago By Night
Jack of Spades
The new shadow in the sewers
Editor of the Pier review
-Publisher Helen (mortal)
-Private detective Jackson (mortal)
Navy pier editorial house.
Brood of Dogs
Napolitan mastiff ghoul: Mephistopheles
Brittish photographer of good family, and reporter for an occult newspaper.
Ears and eyes of the Camarilla Nosferatu.
The first year was harsh cutting bonds with his family. His religious family never liked his occult investigations and his changed appearance made them call for the help of the church. All faithful would see a spark of evil in his soul, the face of the monster he had become. And in them he felt the poison of their mind and their blood. So he left his native town with his sire for the dark alleys of London.
To hide his beast from himself, he would cultivate his mind with the finest reads. Although he took an interest in Darwinism and other new movements, he was not a scientist but a reporter. But the dark streets of London were full of surprises, clandestine events of brawling, dog fights, and forbidden games to which he took attention.
He kept feeding on animals from the Nosfertu brood, trying to contact the kine only for investigation purposes and nightly games.
Soon, he would become a field agent of the Camarilla, infiltrating properties and investigating masquerade breaches. Sometimes the Nosferatu would like the latest gossip about a new Toreador mortal toy and there he was, spying on his movements. It was all a game, the game of unlife. There is no fate, only sin and luck, and both were sources of information.
Keeping the ivory tower informed of the field advancements and any suspicious Sabbat movement during the World Wars, he was granted the permission to sire.
Looking for someone who had the knowledge of these new technologies and science, he found one. The perfect childe, his potential first childe. Observing its movements, birds following its path, rodents checking on its timetable. And the day of the embrace, the target was gone. Disappeared from his web of information. Nobody in whole London could tell him where his escaped target was.
He went into a monstruous frenzy, destroying the house before burning it to the ground.
He spent the following thirty years trying to give a new taste to his unlife. The beast taking slowly over, he enjoyed trickery and games, joining with punk movements or spending time in the underground casinos, free of cameras.
Then the sabbat moved again, and the Camarilla asked for his departure to Chicago, the independent city. To make sure the Sabbat doesn’t get there and report suspicious activity.