Okay, I've finally got the rumors about Indianapolis that I've been hearing verified. The Prince is a Toreador by the name of Henry Thomas Elliot. It turns out that the conflict with the Anarchs is still in progress, and has claimed many lives. From what we've heard by attempts at negotiating a settlement here in Bloomington by ambassadors from Indianapolis, it started earlier this year when some Brujah held a rant in the Indianapolis Museum of Art and trashed the place, killing one of Elliot's childer in the process. He Blood Hunted all of the Brujah in Indianapolis. In retalliation, they issued a Brujah Call against him. Fighting has been alternately intense and public or quiet but brutal since.
Loic
(Out of Character)
This game will be the territory of Tony Taboas. Contact him at tonyt@kiva.net.
John
I recently had the privaledge of visiting Indianapolis myself. The Toreador Prince Henry Thomas Elliot, fervent opponant of the Anarchs and snappy dresser, called a meeting at one of his more isolated mansions to discuss the affairs of his city following the deaths of his Keeper of the Elysium and Sheriff. Apparently, in spite of a recent truce there have been several drive-by attacks, and many Anarchs had been systematically exterminated.
The night featured an attack by a Brujah suicide squad on the new Sheriff. They were captured and apparently sent to something called "the Maze," which I heard mentioned in whispered tones but I couldn't find out more than this. The Sheriff was later destroyed by Angel, the leader of the Anarchs. Witnesses say Angel's only comment to Elliot over the Sheriff's dead body was "You're next."
I arrived at about the same time as a large box, which turned out to contain the Prince's latest childe and Seneschal. Prince Elliot was both depressed and outraged, and soon authorized a competition to determine the new Sheriff. It involved whoever could gather the most Anarch heads - a grizzly spectacle. The Toreador Cyrus won, and several more vampires were made deputies.
Also, later in the night, a mysterious vampire known only as "the Mime" was destroyed by local Garou for unknown reasons. The werewolves departed, sparing the other Kindred.
The general impression I got from the dealings of the upper-crust Kindred of Indianapolis - electing a new Sheriff by stacking up severed heads, punishing "the Mime's" irreverance with a severe beating - was one of a genteel veneer covering casual and merciless brutality. But otherwise, the party was a big hit.
Loic