VILLANOVA

Eliza was just another of the beautiful monsters of Camarilla Atlanta until 1997. Then. like a spike driven straight into her brain, the madness returned. She’d heard whispered stories of course, about how once upon a time the manias that plagued her clan’s blood had been infectious, that Malkavian oracles and witches could reduce living and unliving kings to drooling lunatics with a glance. She’d never really believed, however, just like she’d never believed in the trite stories of Caine and Abel, of Nod and the Second City, It was all so much unsubstantiated bullshit to frighten gullible feebs. Then it all came true. A clanmate came to Elysium from one city or another to introduce himself. He looked at Eliza, smiled once and her world exploded. The ability to inflict madness, the lost art of the clan, bubbled up from within her blood. For an instant, she felt the entirety of what she’s come to recognize as the Madness Network, an ephemeral bond between all Malkavians. In it she saw glimpses of other places and other times, of a night not far off when ancients would rise to feed on their young. That split-second past, Eliza’s bond with the web faded, but she remembered her own prophecy of Gehenna and it destroyed any faith she had in the ways of the Camarilla. Overthenextfewyears,ElizafelttheseedofDementation grow, but at a frustratingly slow pace. If she was to be ready for the Final Nights she knew were coming, she had to know more. The clanmate who had infected no, bhutd- her was gone. She drove mortal after mortal mad with her experimentation and it gained her precious little. Finally, in 1999, the Sabbat took Atlanta. Many locals were terrified, some died, most fled. She joined up. The antihibu, it seemed, had never lost the gift of Dementation and she had to know all its secrets. When some shovelhead cornered her, she stripped the Sabbat’s mind of his appropriate memories and took her place among the mass-Embraced canon fodder. For a few months, it was a wild ride with the packs of Sabbat rampaging up and down the East Coast of the US. By the time some petty priest told Eliza she’d earned the right to become True Sabbat, she was more than ready for the Creation Rites. After watching her hunt down a Camarilla renegade (once upon a time, Eliza’s coteriemate), that same priest applied a flaming brand to Eliza’s forehead and dubbed her a full member of the Sword of Caine. That title meant little to her, but the freedom of action it gave her did. To understand her vision of the coming apocalypse, Eliza needed to hone her skills at Dementation, and that meant finding a mentor. The search brought her to Mexico. She arrived at the Terminal Norte bus station two years to the night after the Sabbat attack on Atlanta. One of the city’s countless homeless shuffled by and smiled at her, with the same smile as that which had infected her. She followed the soiled man and he brought her to a colonial era mansion in the Zona Rosa. There, among the desiccated corpses of the family that legally owned the building, she found a corpulent vampire shoveling a cold gruel of coagulated blood and mashed roaches into his h c o cnv BY NIGHT 78 maw. He grunted, vomited bug juice into a silver spittoon and said, “Ah, you’re here. Finally.” This, she soon discovered, was Bishop Rodolfo, and he had been expecting her. He made her his student and began instructing her in Dementation and the shadow history of the Sabbat Malkavians. She learned to see patterns and oracles in the spatter or blood and dance of flames, to look with what Rodolfo called the “Eyes of Chaos.” She learned of the ancient mystery cults that once unified the clan and of the Madness Network that still bound them together. Using it, she has touched the minds of the mad across Mexico and even in a heady moment - a madman in Gdansk and another in Montevideo. With the bishop’s help she has met others concerned by the dawning of the End Times and shared blood with them. Study and prophecy, however, cannot avert disaster. Eliza knows that Gehenna is coming and she is determined to be ready for the battle. Rodolfo and the Lazarene Viuda Blanca (his most influential ally) are more fascinated than concerned by the coming end, and are thus unlikely to make useful allies when the time comes. Eliza is not wholly comfortable with adding more betrayals to her resume, but she doesn’t have much choice. Eliza has an immaculate suite in the coach house of Bishop Rodolfo’s mansion. She allows in none of the dust, gore and muck in which he revels, and often changes all her clothing after visiting her mentor. As a relative newcomer, Eliza has no direct influence in Mexico. Her association with Rodolfo and the occultists known as Los Hechiceros del Teocalli, however, give her a certain prestige. Unbeknownst to her mentor and coven-mates, Eliza is seeking allies beyond the circle of End Time occultists. The Brute Natalio is the most promising candidate. While something of a hooligan, he understands the stakes at hand and is very wary of complacency. Eliza has also had some discussions with the Keeper Don Polanco, who seems concerned with a rot at the core of the Sabbat itself.