Revised Nosferatu stereotypes

The Camarilla

“Here’s the story you want: The Masquerade hides six families of vampire in Camarilla society, the little conspiracy we’ve been maintaining for the last 500 years. Yeah, yeah, I’ve read your damn novels, and you don’t know shit about vampires. I wouldn’t use those books to wipe my ass. Killing humans onstage in Paris? Vampire rock stars? What the hell were you thinking?

I don’t usually deal with humans, mainly because I hate your kind so much. That’s why we’ve got the Camarilla: We don’t want to deal with humans at all, so we’ve got this epic society to keep us distracted from human concerns. Actually, the other vampires like to treat it like it’s a big social event, but just you wait. When the shit hits the fan, the pretty vampires you write about are gona be the first ones to hit the rotating blades.

Of course, some Kindred claim that we actually manipulate every aspect of human society. Don’t believe it. It’s all bullshit. Me, I got nothing but contempt for your race, and I’d prefer to have nothing to do with it. That’s why my kind are called Sewer Rats. We live in the midst of your society and thoroughly infiltrate it, but we stay hidden the entire time. Oh yeah, and like rats, we don’t mind shitting where we live…”


“Both the Sabbat and the Camarilla have other kinds of vampires as well, and they’re not all artsy-fartsy pretty boys. Like I was saying, there are seven major clans. First off, there’s the Brujah, who’d just as soon kill you as look at you. You’d probably think of them as leather-clad Lost Boys, and they’d probably love to stomp you into the pavement because of it. They’re violent and unpredictable, no matter how intellectual they make themselves out to be. Quite frankly, the hero of our vampire novel would get his head bashed in by one of these guys.

You’ve always got to watch what you say around a Brujah. Most of them are a little too eager to get into a fight. Then again, they often forget how strong many Nosferatu are. If it comes down to a match between speed and strength, I’ll bet on me every time. We do business with them, but that doesn’t mean we like them. Selling information to rebellious Brujah is easy, since they’re always looking for an edge against their enemies. A lot of them are gullible: Spread a few lies around one of the local Rants, and they’ll charge off in seven directions at once, like all Gehenna’s broken loose.”


“What can I say about the Malkavians? Damn freaks. Can’t stand ’em. They’re dangerously unbalanced. I’ve seen ‘em act the fool one moment and then slash up someone with a razorblade the next. The Malkavians are all crazy – I hate having to do business with someone with multiple personalities.”


“Then there are the Toreador. You want me to tell you what I think of the Toreador?” (Much to my alarm, the next sound on my tape recorder was a lengthy, gaseous emission of preternatural proportions emanating from the vampire’s nether regions.) “They’re so damn fascinated by beauty that they’ve forgotten how ugly their kind really is. Vampires pretending to be beautiful humans? Fawning over the prettiest portions of the mortal world? It’s like Jackson Pollock said….” (My guest then proceeded to vomit blood on a nearby bedsheet, an artistic display my tape recorder simply could not record or reproduce.)


“The Tremere are known as the Warlocks, since they study the dark arts. They’re creepy and they’re kooky… mysterious and spooky….and the most doomed vampires on Earth. They’re all bound together through a blood curse, spending all eternity struggling against each other for power and authority within their clan. While their sorcery makes ‘em strong, it’s not worth the price of being trapped in this clan forever. They talk a lot about loyalty, but the truth is, anyone one of them would screw over any other for a slight boost up their ‘pyramid of power,’ or whatever the hell they call it. As far as business goes, they’re always hungry for occult secrets or anything that helps them screw over their own kind.”


“The Ventrue are fools. Wealthy, influential, powerful fools. Most of them seem to think they’re the most qualified to lord over the Camarilla, and I say let ‘em have it. If they want to stand at the vanguard of the Cam, then that means they’ll be the first ones to get killed off when the next Sabbat crusade comes to town.”

The Sabbat

Just in case that’s too pleasant for you, I know a group a vampires hate the human race more than I do. This other bunch, the Sabbat, know you for the vain and destructive little bastards you are. To you, vampires are some kind of poetic metaphor; to them, a human being is just another blood bag. Human life means nothing to them, so they’ll get away with killing as many of you as they need to survive. You’re lucky you didn’t attract a few of them with your pathetic bathroom scrawls. Sabbat Nosferatu revel in being as freakish and unsightly as possible – even more than me! – and love to give anyone who deals with them the Creeps. Hence their nickname.

The Independents


“Okay, so there are other clans, too, out in the dark places of the world. Take the Assamites for instance. You know, a lotta Kindred talk about these guys like they’re assassins and not much else. I’ve dealt with some, though, that are more successful as scholars, as students of the occult, that kind of thing. They’ve also got grudges with the Ventrue that go back a long way, so that makes them worth dealing with.”

Followers of Set

“These guys are an enigma. They’re supposed to, like, a pack of little blood cultists, trying to carry out some spooky master plan for the Death God Set, but then again, aren’t all the Camarilla Kindred supposed to be pawns of their Ancients, too? They’ve got a talent for corrupting and exploiting people, but I’m not sure they’re any better at it than other vampires.”


“Y’know, I’m used to being surrounded by vampires I can’t see. I have no idea how I’m supposed to protect myself against the dead. I’ve only got rumors about how the Giovanni barter with ghosts to spy on us all. Of course, if they aren’t trading that information away, it’s kind of a waste.”


“I don’t really give a damn about the Deceivers one way or the other. We’ve got nothing worth stealing, and they don’t usually come begging us for information. If they screw over Toreador and Ventrue, that’s all right with me.”


“Then there are the Outlanders, the vampires who walked away from the Camarilla. They’ve always preferred the wilderness to the cities, and they have a tendency to wander where they will. Sometimes I wonder why we didn’t think of leaving the Camarilla before they did. They generally treat us better than any clan. I think it’s because most of them have gone off into a frenzy a few minutes too many. A lot of them just want to be left alone – just like most Nosferatu do – so we tend to get along just fine.”


“Finally, there are the Caitiff, or clanless – the lost darklings rejected by their creators. The Caitiff are the only vampires in the world who get screwed over more than we do. Then again, it’s good to know we aren’t on the bottom of the dog pile, right? We need someone to screw over, too, so if that’s the way it’s gotta be, too damn bad.”



“The Lupines are night-prowling monsters through and through. I saw a Nosferatu crush the skull of one of these puppies with a single blow, but I’m guessing it was a lucky shot. I’d saying hiding from them would be the safest choice.

I have seen, however, that there are a few Lupines that are just about as down and out as we are. When a wolf pack takes down its prey, the leaders get the first shot at the prime bits of meat, but there’s always got to be some straggler that winds up chewing the bones. I’ve met a few of these homeless werewolves – of course, I don’t know whether to trust these guys or just throw a steak over my shoulder and run.”


“In some ways, these guys are worse than the Tremere. Fortunately, I think they’re rather weak. I mean, they’re mortal after all, right? Even knives and guns are lethal to a sorcerer. I also hear their version of magic’s got a funny way of backfiring on them. Not so tough – I’m surprised these Renaissance rejects didn’t die out a long time ago.”


“Yeah, sure I believe in ghosts. Buncha spooky guys hiding from the real world, but unlike the Nosferatu, they can’t touch it. As far as I can tell, they can’t do much of anything except watch what’s going on and lament. What? Do you think one’s watching us right now? Tell him to watch me do this…”


“Oooh! Look at the cute little faeries! Dancing around, singing poetry and shit! If you ripped its wings off, it’d probably bleed to death. Big deal.”


“Hunters? Human? Don’t believe it. I don’t know where these freaks learned to kill so efficiently, but with some of the powers they use, you know they ain’t human no more. Some Loremasters told me once that they’re possessed by angels or something, but he’s full of it. I’ve got no respect for a vampire who’s sloppy enough to kill the kine he feeds from. I’ve got even less respect for a human who thinks its his moral duty to kill off as many vampires as he can. Hunters are just another kind of monster, as far as I’m concerned.”

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