Gang Leader
Toreador · Gen 13
Once upon a time, you were flotsam and jetsam of a Camarilla domain, banding together with the rejects because no one else would have you. You led a squalid, hunted existence on the outskirts, constantly moving your group haven to avoid the Scourge, feeding on addicts and street people. Those nights were years ago now, but you’ve never forgotten them. Never. Your fortunes improved when you finally listened to that old Gangrel and brought your people to Anarch country. The gangs you found there were soft and complacent, and couldn’t match your wits or survival instincts. They complained to the neighboring Baron, but he knew the bigger, better deal when he saw it. Right now you serve as an unofficial first line of defense for his domain, and demand a fat salary in return. You’re considering taking over a small apartment building in the neighborhood soon, but if the arrangement sours you’re more than ready to pick up stakes again. You won’t be corralled and you won’t be bullied. Your latest project is trying to find someone who’ll teach you the Vaulderie rite so that you can make your gang stronger than ever.
Roleplaying
You want it understood from the outset that nobody fucks with you or your people — not your compadres, not their mortal pieces of ass, not their mortal pieces of ass’s dogs. (What little overt tenderness you’re still capable of mostly goes to those dogs, honestly.) If anyone, especially a smart-mouthed man, has trouble with this concept, then put him in a lock and bend his arm the wrong way till he whimpers or you hear popping noises. Once the rules of engagement are established and your family’s shown the respect it deserves, you can settle down to business negotiations, which you like to keep short and sweet. If someone does catch you in a Toreador trance, staunchly refuse to speak of it afterward.
In the Chronicles
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