This is a fiction I wrote based on some characters I've been designing for a Vampire Masquerade Role Playing Game to test the plot and non-playable characters (NPC'c). It's kind of a scene setting, character building thingy, but it will probably follow as a journal of everything the players get up too as they are introduced to the main NPC's. Well I hope you find it atmosphere invoking as you enter into a world of vampire clans, dark mystery and manipulation. All reviews are more then welcome!

Chapter 1.

Long Island New York 1998

~*Isabel Tyler*~

Isabel sat dangerously close to the edge of a cold, grey stone balcony, feet dangling above the turbulence of the city streets below.

The wind tossed her hair about her pale face as she stared down distastefully at the Kine, the darkening sky hung quilted with the bright sparks of life and the ever-reddening moon. The lights below blurred into dancing streams of colour as the night slowly turned black. The light humming ceased in the cold air as she consciously reminded herself of the ever watchful eyes of the city. Yet she still casually swung her legs back round to the firm concrete floor and stepped back through to the warm, lit apartment.

She took her coat, which was slung over a chair in her not so tidy living room, and headed out for the night. She could hear the clubs beginning to come alive and with them the crowds began to build, just as always she made a direct route to one particular night-club, a favoured area for her kind. All the while she kept up her lie, her false ways to trick anyone who would be looking to harm her. It was by using the Blood she could make it appear she breathed, her disguise had to be flawless in case any hunters and other unpleasant souls walk nearby, so she created steam like any other mortal would produce. She flushed blood to her skin to give her some colour in her complexion and warmth in her flesh until she looked just like another teenager heading for a night out.

She eventually reached the latest blip on what passed for night life in the city, but she had seen the hot spots come and go, dance halls faded into speakeasies turn to swing clubs and then burger joints, which then meld into coffee-houses, discos and eventually, this. It made no difference, there are always places where the young come to show how rebellious they are, at least until that night's money runs out. They come for the taste of danger, while she came for the taste of blood, she couldn't help grinning because the irony of the situation was lost on them. The club was no more than a water hole for such predators as she, a place where the Kine gather in large numbers making the hunt so much easier.

She was able to avoid the queue of the nicotine smelling press of bodies, the mass of black make-up and short dresses, the pungent smell of excessive after-shave and vile stench of sweat. The owner of this club was a long time friend and one of her Kindred, and the bouncer guarding admittance was his ghoul, that being a mortal that every so often drinks from one of the Kindred, a property of the Blood. Though she had never used this, Silas had told her once a Kine has had the Blood three times its hopelessly enthralled with the Kindred, and that this resultant feeling of affection is known as the Blood Bond. If reinforced as Silas had done, the Bond can last the Kine's lifetime. She found herself laughing at the thought, the thought of being forced to love someone your whole life, knowing that the love you have for them - which is so strong you'll kill or die for this person - is a lie, a damnably induced lie. Hating and loving them at the same time, and not being able to do a damned thing about it. It was an amusing thought, how petty the ghoul must feel, how completely hopeless a situation to get into in the first place, although she knew how addictive Kine get. Inside the club was writhing with bodies of the living, she pushed her way through past some stumbling girls in ridiculous heels. As the small group nearly fell down a step, she thought perhaps she should mention to management that not all its patrons could see in the dark.

"Izzy!" Silas hailed her from a small table in the dark corner of the club; she picked her way over as fast as she could. She hated the crowds, if she could she would have avoided them all together but the truth was places such as this provided the best place for easy sustenance. She took the chair to his right out of sight from everyone else but him.

"Well nice of you to come see your much respected friend once in a while. How long have you gone without a good feed? It's been a while you're as pale as an aristocrats glove my dear."

"I was trying to remain hidden among the Kine on my trip here, if you must know."

"Tosh!" He exclaimed "How long has it been?"

"Not long"

He fixed her a stern look. She knew that he wasn't going to back down until she answered his question.

"Fine you stubborn old mule, about a week."

"Such harsh words. Stubborn? Yes. Mule? I think not, and a week is a dangerously long while, insanity from what I've seen is not a nice thing little gem."

"I know but I can't stand this place."

"And what's wrong with my Club?"

"Ah Silas stop being so defensive, I'm talking about the city in general not your club."

"Still?"

"Yes still, it really does bother me, our kind clings to the cities for protection and sustenance, despite this or rather because of it the cities have become our eternal prison!"

"Not this again." He sighed and continued the discussion like the script it had become due to the regular topic of conversation. "Don't tell me you'd rather take your chances out in the country with those foul Lupine creatures?"

"Silas you've never met one, they might be just like us, except not trapped for eternity in a stinking pit."

"They're our ancestral enemies who desire nothing more than to destroy us outright, is that reason enough? Besides the cities provide countless opportunities for liaisons and politicking, not to speak of the fact that they offer near infinite supplies of blood, enough contact to satisfy the most social of vampires and in your case my dear, enough seclusion to satisfy the most isolationist."

"I'm not an isolationist, I just don't enjoy being crammed in a room full of Kine and their reeking pitiful ways and nor do I believe that if we wanted to leave the Lupine would be able to prevent it."

"Have something to drink and you'll feel better my rose." She sighed and took the glass he offered her; it contained a mix of the vitae of various powerful and ancient Cainites, all long since destroyed by the younger. Silas could drink such regularly, being high in his clan's hierarchy, not only this but he was a Ventrue, one of the most respected of the thirteen clans. The Ventrue had a reputation for being honourable, genteel and of impeccable taste. They were a clan of leadership, enforcing the ancient traditions and seeking to shape the destiny of the Kindred.

"Ironically then, the cities are both prisons and paradises. If we leave, we risk losing our lives."

"Un-lives dear"

"Fine, we risk losing are 'un-lives' to starvation or the claws of the Lupine Werewolves. But by staying we may indulge our passions, but live a tense, tenuous existence, and one devoted to staving off the myriad curses of immortality: depression, futility and maddening boredom."

"You always did have a way of putting things in their most appealing terms my precious rose of the night." His voice was full of sarcasm as he raised his glass to her in a gesture of friendship and an attempt to lift her spirits.

"Still, Silas, don't you ever wonder what it would be like to have the freedom we wanted?"

"No, that would mean dropping The Masquerade."

"Maybe that's not a bad thing for us."

"Enough! You're suggesting discarding the Camarilla. For what? The Sabbat!"

"No never The Sabbat!"

Izzy was all too aware that her friend, being a Kindred of the Ventrue, had the responsibility to preserve stability and maintain order for the Camarilla, this being an attempt to hold the vampire society together against the power of the Inquisition in the 15th century. It was under its guidance the Tradition of The Masquerade grew from a cautious suggestion to the main principle of Kindred un-life. She understood its benefits, having the Kine unaware of their existence was the biggest bonus they had, but over the years the Camarilla sect had attempted to extend its influence over other areas of vampire life, and each time has had its hands slapped for its insolence.

However all the Ventrue she had ever met had seen their role of shepherds more of a burden than honour but all supported The Masquerade wholeheartedly, feeling that under its guidance the best existence for all Kindred may be obtained.

"I'm sorry Izzy, please don't talk like that, I just get so angry thinking about that pack of monsters." He gave an involuntary shudder at the thought and she could completely understand why. The Sabbat was the archenemy of those clans in the Camarilla. While the Camarilla conceal themselves among the mortals the Sabbat favoured a different philosophy; revelling their un- dead nature they reason the Kindred are above mortal Kine, who are merely food or diversion, unfortunately they also saw the Camarilla in the same light. They wish no place among humans or those who 'pretend' to be human, lacking the ability to relate to vampires who cannot accept their natures.

"It's my fault, I guess I was beginning to sound like I was turning into one of those Sabbat monstrosities instead of my usual complaining self. But you don't have to worry about that, oh god after the time we spent in that accused Sabbat run town all those years ago, the atrocities and horrors we saw there were enough to put me off their ways for all eternity."

"And I'm glad to hear it." Yet he wasn't acting his grinning laid back self anymore, she had stomped over a soft spot as carelessly and clumsy as a human in the dark.

"So how's business been?" This was one topic that usually got him smiling again, and her success came when at first the corners of his mouth pricked up and formed his usual lop sided smile she had grown so used to over the centuries.

"Brilliant as always, although my door man is concerned that hunters have been prowling a bit." He paused for a sip of his drink. "Which means we'll no doubt be moving again, but not for a while yet."

"Hunters? What is up with that?"

"I know, it does seem like there are more of them, but its not surprising is it."

"I guess not, not since 'The Original Iron Maiden' took over the Inquisition."

"Ah yes that bitch, what's her name? Ingrid Bauer, yes we're trying to find out about her. Listen my rose why not come to the Clan Coterie?"

"What, have you become deranged in your old age Silas? I'm a Caitiff for Gods Sake! I have no Clan, I doubt me if God even knows who my Sire was!"

"Yes well, your Sire probably was a Ventrue, you certainly have the skill and knowledge for it to be in your lineage, despite not having the social qualities, but then I never was one to stereotype."

"What would your Brother say?"

"Since our Elder had the unfortunate run in with the Catholic Church, we are both in charge, but he will listen to me."

"Perhaps, but I don't want to be fed to Ingrid Bauer and her 212 torture methods, because I have an uncertain lineage."

"Oh don't talk such rubbish. Now, if you were going to, say, a Brujah Coterie or Sabbat clans like the Lasombra." He paused to straighten the collar of his smart suit before continuing. "Well then if I were you I would rather run out into the wild countryside yelling 'Oh foul smelling fuzz balls, you poor excuses for wolves, come take huge chunks out my dead flesh!' You see, with us Ventrue you're perfectly safe, especially with me." He reached over and filled her empty glass again without her consent. She couldn't help but laugh at his odd way of expressing matters, it was hard to believe her ancient friend was going to be the new Elder of his clan and a new player in the Great Game, the Jyhad. She had to choke her laughter off before she could reply.

"Did your heart just beat Silas? Was that a caring offer you just made." They were both laughing now, just the way any old friends would. "Okay I'll come along, it seems like an eternity since I've been to a Clan Coterie."

"You've been to one."

"Yes I think so, but it's not very clear, I believe it was before The Sleep."

"I see, and you don't know what Clan Coterie it was."

"If only."

Silas just looked at her, his silence suggested he'd picked up on her sudden change of mood, and he attempted to move the topic on. "Well its tomorrow night precious, here of course at about 10pm everyone is arriving."

"I'll be there then, do you want me to come early and help set up?"

"That would be most appreciated. Now I suggested you work your magic and find yourself a meal, there was plenty of young lads eyeing you up when you walked."

"Fine."

"You should be flattered my dear, no other creature your age could retain such youthful beauty." He made a shooing motion with his hands and got up and left the table for the dance floor. Her full-length coat had complimented her slender figure and her hair hung down just off her shoulders in raven dark strands tossed about in her rhythmic dance.

She began again to warm her flesh using the vitae she had just acquired but it was effort. It had only been a few moments when she was approached by and young teenager, who looked the age she appeared he was attractive and clearly interested. She slowly worked him into another dark corner, and finally when his back was pressed up against the wall she began the subtle change. Her eyes that were already of a strange yellow pigment became what can best be described as cat-slit, and her vision greatly enhanced. She could feel the pleasant sensation of her canines elongating in her mouth like cold steel daggers.

She waited still and as the song reached its climax she nestled her face into his neck and first kissed then bit down. He moaned at the extreme ecstasy of the moment, and she drank. She knew how pleasurable this was for mortals, sometimes to the point of addiction for some, and this youth was groaning from the sheer enjoyment of the feeling. When she had all she needed without killing him, she began to lick his wound away, a talent all her brethren shared. She let him slump to the floor at the removal of his delight and the end of that particular song.

She turned to leave and glanced over to say good bye to Silas, who was still sitting in the corner, he'd been watching the whole time. She saw him mouth the words 'such skill' at her over the noise of the music. Which she returned with a brief smile and headed for the exit.

The next dance picked up severely as the 'latest' song began to play, now was definitely the best time to leave. She began making her way through the strong scent of cigarette smoke in the close pack of warm fragile bodies. Confronted by a young man she attempted to step round him only for him to reposition himself in her way again. Again she tried and again it seemed they were participating in the 'pavement dance' as he stubbornly refused to get out of her way. He was average height, silky brown hair and pretty large brow eyes, nothing special. She stopped and shot him an intense look from her beautiful but frightening yellow eyes; he flinched slightly but still refused to leave her alone.

"Get out of my way." Her voice seething with the loathing she felt for ignorant Kine and full of fresh blood her body tingled with power.

"Can't do that, my guilt won't let me."

"What are you chattering about? Now get lost!"

"I will not! I know what your kind do and I ain't sitting around any longer when I can do something about it."

"I don't know nor do I care what you're saying, go commit yourself for the benefit of others, if you'd be so kind."

"Listen you filthy monster. I know! Okay, so don't think you can just brush me off!"

At this he pulled a wooden crucifix from a concealed pocket in his denim jacket and rudely thrust it in her direction. She was more amused then angered by this but harshly swatted it out his hand and before he could understand what had truly just happened she plunged a fist in his gut sending him wheeling back into the wall. Recovering he moved to pull another weapon from the same pocket but too late. With pleasure she lashed out with the item from her pocket she had been fiddling with all night.

Her door key.

The brass key was attached to an old bootlace, which she had entwined around her hand; the key itself was nestled in between her fingers to make a stabbing punch. The sharp point landed painfully in the hunter's eye and as a scream began to leave his lips her other hand shot forth to silence it. Slamming his head hard against the wall she cuffed his agonised voice with her icy hand, while digging his eye from his socket with a supposedly harmless house hold object. It fell with a trail of saturated, tough thread behind it to the club floor with a slop. Blood was dribbling in thick clots from the wound in his face as she removed the key and stamped on the unrecognisable gore on the floor. She felt the satisfying burst of the small sack of fluid under her foot and the loss of friction as she smeared the liquid around. His terrified one eyed gaze met her cold cat slit eyes and she flashed a canine smile at his displeasure making him shudder violently with fear.

The room had faded into the distance; all she could see was the squirming human before her. She reached for his throat to strangle the pathetic young man who dared confront her, when a firm hand clasped down on her shoulder.

"Enough Izzy, you are going to cause a scene!" Silas whispered harshly in her ear.

She released the man from her icy grip, and he scrambled into the crowd, bumping others out the way in his desperate escape. A few gazes fell on her, but most were involved in dancing or with a partner. Some vampires cast a disapproving look before returning to their own business, Silas sighed and led her to the door.

"Take care on you way home, be sure your not being followed and secure your haven before you retire." His advice was common sense but his authoritative voice helped calm the rising panic. She nodded and fled into the dark streets, never looking back but always listen for tell tale stalking foot steps.

As it happened the young hunter must have been acting alone as she was not troubled and she could afford a brief feeling of relief before she set about locking and securing every entrance and possible way in. She bathed and decided after that night's ordeal she would sleep early, and so slipped beneath the thick quilt and lay in contemplation before her exhaustion claimed her tired body.