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Community InformationBelow is information about the "Lords of Thunder Chronicle - Vampire: The Requiem" community on LiveJournal. To join this community, click here. You may leave the community at any time. |
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| User: | lordsofthunder (12594653) (no userpics) |
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| Name: | Lords of Thunder Chronicle - Vampire: The Requiem | |
| About: | This Community is dedicated to the organization of and easy communication between players in the upcoming Vampire: the Requiem chronicle that I will be running online. It is unofficial, non-canon, and just being done for the fun and recreation of all involved. A bit of setting background, to illustrate the initial theme of the game: "It is said by the dross that lives in the sewers and back alleys that when the reckoning comes to Graham, the Lords of Thunder shall shake this city to the foundation. Bullshit, if you ask me. All the time they've spoken about the Lords of Thunder, nothin's happened to shake a damn thing loose. The Black Suits still run this city, they still make life hard for the rest of us, let alone the bloodbags we need to survive. "They were probably Invictus, once. No one who knew was allowed to survive the culling. Hell, I'm amazed that we've survived long enough to speculate. Whatever the Suits are, they don't like free thought, and they don't like Kindred that don't play by their rules. Maybe that's what the Haunts mean, someone's gonna rise up and kick up the shitstorm that's finally going to take the Suits down. Maybe they're just crazy bastards who've spent too much time with their rats. "Either way, they're getting louder. "They've got Circle witches down there chanting up a frenzy, trying to get some kind of ritual together to bring the storm, or some other bullshit those freaks like to spit. They've got Dragons thinking they can rise above this and transcend the control of the Suits. The Carthians talk big, but all the political rallying and theories in the world don't mean jack-shit against the Suits when they're breathing down your necks. Sanctum? Like they give a rat's ass about the rest of us non-believers anymore, they've been turned by the Suits anyway. Don't even get me started on the Invictus, they let this happen to begin with. "All the Clans are involved in this, none of us can get out. The Nos are the most vocal, that's for sure; talking about how they see things coming thanks to their witches. The Mekhet aren't exactly slowing them down, if anything, those cats are making it worse; they see storms on the horizon, or something. The Gangrel, we're fighting a losing battle, trying to keep our freedom in the tides of this Orwellian sea. The Daeva... screw them, they're too busy trying to piss it all away; they don't even see that all the pleasure in the world won't dull the effect when the axe comes down for them. And the Ventrue, the great Lords of Kindred society, won't raise a fucking finger for anyone else; and why would they, everyone knows the Suits come from Ventrue stock. "If the storm is coming, if the Haunts and the Shadows are right, then it better come soon. The Suits are getting stronger, their control getting tighter. We're running out of time." Welcome to Graham City, in the heartland of what used to be America. The year is 2045, fifteen years after the attempted global genocide that sparked in the east that left half the world in flames and the other half struggling under shattered governments. International travel has been restricted to independant freighters for mortals and undead alike. Immigration is illegal, but in an age where martial law is only enforced at the convenience of the glass-tower lords of our modern age, that's meaningless. No one has spotted a werewolf in years, and if the magi are still lurking among the living, they aren't showing themselves. Some say that spirits are walking the world in human flesh, but no one knows for sure if that's legit. Who knows what's real anymore, and what's pure speculation. In 2040, a group of vampires rose from the Invictus, almost exclusively formed of Ventrue, that called themselves the Black Suits. They posed as benign diplomats at first, offering to help restructure Graham City and restore order to the chaos-ridden streets. Like fools, we believed them. They brought order, alright, but they didn't stop there. The mortals were ignorant, they just wanted security. We Kindred should have known better. The Black Suits seized control of Graham City permanently, and have ruled with iron fists for five years, enforcing their laws on Kindred and mortal alike. The rich got richer, the poor were driven from their homes and forced to live on the streets in the virtual warzone on the edges of town. They can't leave, since that would drive them into the wastelands that offer no shelter for Kindred and no sustenance for mortal. They can't afford to stay, either; at the rate the Suits are going, Graham City will be locked into a rigid military lockstep by the end of the year. It falls to the rebels to rise against the forces of the Black Suits. Most of the mortals are clueless as to what they're fighting, and the Kindred in their midst refuse to talk about it. The Nosferatu, Mekhet, and Gangrel have largely closed ranks and agreed to a truce until the Suits are taken down, but they still find too much to argue amongst themselves over. The Daeva gave up a year ago, and have fallen into a hedonistic revolt, throwing huge impromptu parties, indulging in illicit drug use, orgies of blood and sex, and uncoordinated outcries of passionate anger at the state of the world. The Ventrue sit snugly behind the linen curtain, using the Suits' protection as a screen against the others out of fear of reprisal. There are rare examples of each that divert from the rest of their Clan, of course, but they are indeed the exception to the rule. Mortals blindly follow the charismatic leaders of the Kindred rebels, not knowing what they fight or anything more than how to fight them. Some don't even have that advantage, and just flail wildly against the oppression. Some get slightly more, but they're usually under the thrall of the Kindred they know. Of course, there are also those mortals who blindly serve the Suits and march in step with their Ventrue superiors. Those who resist and are captured are taken away, never to return. Held in massive vaults within the corporate catacombs of high society, the faces of the revolution are used as nothing more than renewable resources, food for the ever strengthening machine. With so many of the elders of Graham City imprisoned, it falls to the childer to fight the war for freedom. | |
| Maintainers: | 1: tharivious | |
| Members: | 5: bhryn, draggyness, jkarabella, lillejan, tharivious | |
| Watched by: | 5: bhryn, draggyness, jkarabella, lillejan, tharivious | |
| Account type: | Plus Account | |