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Nosferatu often choose physically or emotionally twisted
mortals for the Embrace, seeing in the curse of vampirism
a possible means of redemption for the mortals. Amazingly,
there seems to be some merit to this belief. Many Nosferatu
are surprisingly levelheaded and practical, avoiding the
obsessions, fits and rages of their fairer brethren. Not
that this makes the Sewer Rats particularly pleasant to
be around; indeed, some Nosferatu come to delight in the
shock and horror their grotesque appearances inspire in
others.
Nosferatu are survivors par excellence. Few creatures, mortal
or vampire, know a city's back alleys and dark corners like
the Nosferatu do Additionally, Nosferatu have mastered the
crafts of sneaking and eavesdropping; they make a point
of keeping up with current gossip and affairs, not merely
for pleasure, but for survival. Information brokers without
peer, they can command high prices for their knowledge.
Using their Obfuscate Discipline, Nosferatu make a point
of listening to others' conversations from hiding, or sitting
in on "secret" meetings. If a Kindred wishes to
learn about the doings and denizens of the city, she would
do well to consult the Nosferatu.
Finally, millennia of shared deformity and abuse have fostered
strong bonds among the monsters. Nosferatu forego the squabbling
and feuds ubiquitous to the other clans, preferring to work
in unison. They treat each other with meticulous politeness
and freely share information among themselves. T o mess
with one Nosferatu is t( mess with them all- and that can
get messy indeed....
Nickname: Sewer Rats
Sect: Surprisingly, the clan as a whole belongs to
the Camarilla, despite obvious difficulties with upholding
the Masquerade. Perhaps they value the safety of membership;
perhaps they simply want the other clans within observing
distance. Still, a fair number of Nosferatu are in the Sabbat
or simply consider themselves autarkis (of no sect).
Appearance: No two Nosferatu look precisely alike,
but all are hideous. Gaping fang-filled maws, discolorations,
tumors, holes in place of noses, bat like ears, sloping
bald heads, twisted spines, claws, wrinkled hides, pustulent
sores and webbed fingers are just a few possible
deformities possessed by Nosferatu. An existence in sewers
and crypts tends to ensure that most Nosferatu smell about
as good as they look.
Haven: Their disfigurement forces most Nosferatu
to take havens far from the eyes of mortals, in graveyards,
abandoned warehouses and cellars. In large cities, entire
broods of Nosferatu lair in sewers and subway systems. These
"kingdoms," particularly the older ones, are often
much more extensive than mortals or Kindred are aware -
subterranean labyrinths stretching deep into the darkness
and guarded by monstrous ghouls. Even princes treat warily
with the Nosferatu kingdoms.
Background: Nosferatu choose their progeny from society's
castoffs: derelicts, the mentally ill and the hopelessly
antisocial. Occasionally, a vindictive Nosferatu chooses
to Embrace a beautiful, vain mortal, then watch gleefully
as the Curse takes hold.
Character Creation: Nosferatu can have any concept,
but often come from loner, outsider or drifter stock. Physical
or Mental Attributes are often primary (Social are rarely
anything other than tertiary!). Stealth is highly prized
among the clan, while Survival allows a Sewer Rat to find
shelter in the blighted zones Nosferatu favor. Nosferatu
occasionally have retainers in the form of ghoul animals,
or even a human ally or two, but Backgrounds are rarely
predominant among the clan.
Clan Disciplines: Animalism, Obfuscate, Potence
Weaknesses: As mentioned, Nosferatu are absolutely
loathsome to look at. All Nosferatu have Appearance ratings
of zero - CroSS the automatic dot right off the character
sheet. Nor may they improve Appearance with experience points.
Most Social actions based on first impressions, except intimidation
and the like, fail automatically.
Organization: While Nosferatu do not have the rigid
protocols that mark clans such as the Tremere and Ventrue,
their shared deformIty creates an exceptional clan unity.
Shunned and reviled by other creatures, Nosferatu stick
together out of equal parts necessity and loneliness.
Bloodlines: Like many other clans, Nosferatu has
an antribu analog in the Sabbat, though this branch does
not differ greatly from the ruck and run of the clan save
in ideology. Descendants of certain sires sometimes bear
"signature" deformities, but few differ in any
significant fashion.
Quote: Come here, little boy, hawsabout a kiss?
[phlegmy, wheezing hack] Whazza matter? Big bad gangbanger'
s scared now ? Don't so much like being a victim, heh? Well,
get used to it, 'cuz you ain't seen the half of it!
Stereotypes:
Assamite: This is bad. This is straight-up, fucked-up bad.
Roll around in sewage; maybe they won't wanna bite you.
Brujah: They talk a lot about equality and egalitarianism
and other bullshit, but they flinch like the rest.
Followers of Set: What have they got that we need: Money:
Hah. Fancy clothes: Hah. A comfortable apartment: Hah. Lovers!?:
Hah!! Can't corrupt what's already filthy, gardenslugs.
Gangrel: They understand - more than the others do, at
any rate. We don't talk much, and the silence speaks volumes.
Giovanni: You knoW that odor that comes off my skin after
a good rain: That Giovanni I met had that coming from
the inside. I smelled it coming out ofher mouth when she
sucked up to me about "partnership." lasombra:
Mean, mean bastards. Can't even trust the shadows when you're
an)und 'em. They won't go down first or easy, I'll tell
ya that now.
Malkavian: There's a nasty smell on the wind, and it's not
us. Watch 'em, obsetve what they do. When you can't see
'em anymore, run or hide.
Ravnos: Easily dismissed. Way, way too easily dismissed.I'm
beginning to think we may have made a bad, bad mistake here..
.
Toreador: These pusbags sure make themselves easy to hate,
don't they?
Tremere: You really thought abracadabras and eye of newt
would let you dive in the deep end of the Jyhad : Idiots.
Have fun in Hell.
Tzimisce: In theory, I can appreciate their conceit of being
monsters through and through. Unpretentious, in a way. In
practice, they're fucked-up bitches, and I hate 'em.
Ventrue: Little Lord Fauntleroy sat on a throne, Little
Lord Fauntleroy died there alone
Caitiff: Kick or be kicked, Lickboy. I know which one I'm
going to do.
Camarilla: Come on down here and give me that order again,
Mr. Prince. Yeah, didn't think so.
Sabbat: Do they really think that what they do is liberating:
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