Your sire did not Embrace you for any intrinsic property you possessed, or even as part of any long-term plan. You were just a way to insult the old Prince of Tucson. Your sire, an Edwardian street punk Embraced during the Great War called Pattermuster, loved thumbing his nose at the Traditions. His greatest insult: creating childer without permission. The Camarilla—what passes for civilization among the undead—has only one punishment for a vampire who Embraces without the Prince's permission, and the punishment falls on both sire and childe. Pattermuster dared the Prince to invoke his rights and destroy both of you.
And—for reasons you have never understood—the Prince balked. It was not out of mercy, that's for sure. Maybe he needed Pattermuster's influence over the other Brujah. Maybe he wanted to act as if your sire's antics were beneath his notice. Maybe he had some clever long-term plan for you. Whatever the reason, the old Prince's neglect of the Traditions proved a fatal mistake; within a year, a rival within Clan Ventrue had turned Tucson into a war zone, and the Prince was a pile of ash with teeth in it.
Pattermuster barely had time to enjoy his victory. Over the decades, the Camarilla had grown increasingly brittle, recognizing the influence of only a handful of clans, specifically the Ventrue. And then, one night, the Brujah declared that they were leaving the Camarilla. It was supposed to be an amicable split.
The ghoul assassins came for you the next day. The Ventrue, even more than other vampires, love their ghouls: human servants fed on vampire Blood, who gain agelessness and a little power in exchange for slavish devotion to their masters.
How did you survive?
I'm no Ventrue, but I know their tricks: I charmed, manipulated, and flattered my way to safety.
The Ventrue might rule the skyline, but Pattermuster and I ruled the streets. My allies among the city's homeless and desperate bought me time, and I used my incredible speed to escape.
Invoking the dreadful strength of my clan, I smashed through the Ventrue's hired killers and fled into the wilderness, surviving there until the heat died down.
I maintained a false identity as a doctor and was able to disappear into the network of a hospital I worked at.
I was caught by surprise, but my Blood grants me inhuman strength. I smashed through a wall, stole a car, and escaped.
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Dedric Lackman
VampireIt's a new Dark Age for the dead. When the Second Inquisition's vampire hunters hacked phone lines and computer networks to expose and destroy vampires all over the world, the elders turned to undead couriers like you. For ten years, you've raced ac...
