Cities of blood and power

The Jyhad has always been one of my favourite concepts in Vampire: The Masquerade. The idea that ancient vampires spend centuries manipulating, plotting and occasionally destroying one another in a secret holy war is wonderfully atmospheric. Even VTES itself was originally published under the name Jyhad. Back when I was devouring the Clan Novel series, I was fascinated by the events unfolding in cities like New York and Atlanta. Every chapter left me wondering which domains belonged to the Camarilla, which had fallen to the Sabbat and which unfortunate city was currently serving as the battleground for some elder's thousand-year-old grudge.

In those days, Vampire for me was largely a story about the Camarilla and the Sabbat. The Anarchs existed, of course, but they rarely took center stage in our games. Then came V5 and suddenly the political map became much more complicated. The Anarchs stepped into the spotlight, cities changed hands and the World of Darkness started to feel less like a cold war and more like a three-way bar fight where everyone insists they are the reasonable side.

Naturally, this got me thinking. I wanted a map.

Not just any map, but the kind of map a paranoid Ventrue elder might keep hidden behind a painting in his private office. A map showing who controls what. Which cities are Camarilla strongholds? Where do the Sabbat gather? Which domains have fallen into Anarch hands? I imagined something that would let me zoom out and see the eternal struggle spread across the globe. Then I remembered something. VTES is full of titled vampires. Princes. Barons. Archbishops. The people whose entire job description can be summarized as "I am in charge here and I would appreciate it if you acknowledged that". Those titles are tied to cities. And suddenly the project became much more interesting.

Instead of trying to build a definitive political map of the World of Darkness (a task that would probably require consulting fifty sourcebooks, three wikis and at least one Malkavian oracle) I decided to build a map using VTES titles. Every Prince, Baron and Archbishop became a marker on the globe. The result is not necessarily a perfect representation of modern canon, but it offers a fascinating glimpse into how VTES sees the world. Some cities have a single ruler standing proudly atop their domain. Others look like political disasters waiting to happen. There are places where multiple vampires claimed authority over the same city, which immediately raises important questions. 

Looking at the finished map feels a bit like peeking behind the curtain of the Jyhad itself. You begin to notice patterns. Certain regions are packed with influential vampires, while others seem strangely quiet. Some cities have enough competing leaders that they resemble a corporate board meeting organized by the Sabbat. As a Ventrue enthusiast, I naturally spent far too much time examining which cities have Princes. As a Tremere fan, I immediately started wondering which of those Princes are secretly being manipulated by someone else. Old habits die hard.

In any case, I wanted to share the result with fellow fans of both VTES and the World of Darkness. If you enjoy lore, politics, city domains, or simply seeing where vampires have decided to establish questionable governments, you might find it interesting. You can explore the map yourself using the link below. Just remember: every title on that map was earned through politics, betrayal, influence, violence or some combination of all four.

VTES Vampire Map

The game never ends, only pauses. I'll see you at the next move. 

Custodian Hargrave

Clan focus: Brujah

I would like to start a new series on this blog. Similar to my Tradition series, I will be looking at individual clans, their stars, common winning strategies and the general feel of playing them. Since my personal experience is limited to only a handful of clans, these articles will be based mostly on tournament-winning deck lists, observations, and impressions rather than decades of mastery. My goal is not to provide the definitive guide, but rather to explore what makes these clans tick, highlight cards that caught my attention and hopefully learn something along the way.

It felt only appropriate to begin with everyone's favourite troublemakers: the Brujah.

In the tabletop RPG, Brujah are the eternal rebels. They challenge authority, question tradition and generally make life difficult for anyone attempting to maintain order. My Tremere characters often found themselves caught in the blast radius when a Brujah decided that tonight was the night for revolution. My Ventrue, on the other hand, usually arrived afterwards to deal with the consequences, fill out the paperwork and explain to the Prince why half the city was on fire. Their clan bane perfectly captures their nature: they are passionate, impulsive and occasionally their emotions drive straight through carefully crafted plans like a truck through a garden fence. And don't even get me started on Theo Bell and his famous disagreement with Hardestadt. Some people call it a pivotal moment in vampire history. My inner Ventrue calls it a tantrum.

In VTES, the Brujah appear to have taken all that bottled-up anger and converted it directly into combat efficiency. Their disciplines are Potence, Celerity and Presence. Potence and Celerity practically scream "fight me," while Presence looks like it was invited merely to ensure witnesses remember who won. Technically they could use Presence to avoid combat. Looking at tournament-winning decks, however, I get the impression they view that option as a personal insult.

When examining successful Brujah crypts, three names appear repeatedly: Saku Pihlajamäki, Aline Gädeke and Leumeah. Saku's built-in maneuver helps ensure combat happens at the range most convenient for punching people. Aline can unlock whenever another anarch performs a successful action, which is exactly the sort of efficiency that wins games. Then there is Leumeah. No special text, no flashy tricks, just a six-cap prince (ehm, baron) with an excellent discipline spread. Sometimes being solid is enough. Theo Bell still appears from time to time, but these three seem to be the true workhorses of modern Brujah decks. In fact, if two Brujah players sit down at the same table, there is a decent chance they'll spend the evening contesting one of them.

The combat package itself is exactly as terrifying as you would expect. Immortal Grapple and Torn Signpost appear so often they may as well be printed directly onto Brujah character cards. The combination allows them to hit extremely hard while preventing many of the tricks opponents might use to escape. Once the beating is complete, Taste of Vitae often refuels the attacker, creating the vampire equivalent of finishing a workout and immediately drinking a protein shake. Celerity then adds extra strikes, pursuit effects and enough flexibility to ensure the unpleasant experience continues for as long as necessary.

Many decks also use Brujah Debate, a master card that grants +1 strength at the cost of locking one of your vampires. This sounds like a drawback until you realize the Brujah are perfectly happy letting one of their bosses sit in a meeting room while the mob handles business in the streets. Line Brawl is another card that appears frequently, serving double duty by helping with both bleeding and entering combat. It is a wonderfully Brujah design: if talking doesn't work, punch them. If punching doesn't work, punch them harder.

When it comes to defense, Brujah seem to subscribe to a philosophy I deeply respect from a thematic standpoint, even if it occasionally terrifies me as a player: the best defense is making sure the other vampire is incapable of continuing their action. They do have access to cards like Organized Resistance, which provides intercept and unlocks the reacting vampire, but even then the card feels less like defense and more like an invitation to start a fight.

Looking through these decks, I can absolutely see the appeal. Brujah may not be subtle. They may not be elegant. They certainly do not spend much time negotiating. But they are brutally efficient at applying pressure. If Ventrue win through influence and Tremere through preparation, Brujah often win by repeatedly asking the question, "What if we solved this problem with violence?" until the table runs out of counterarguments.

Will I build a Brujah deck myself? Perhaps. My inner Ventrue still finds their methods a little uncivilized, but I have to admit there is something refreshing about a clan whose strategic plan can occasionally be summarized as "run forward and see what breaks." And judging by the tournament results, quite often the answer is "everything."

The game never ends, only pauses. I'll see you at the next move. 

Custodian Hargrave

Death came wearing a smile

This week I finally had the opportunity to play a short game of VTES. It was only the three of us: my wife brought her favourite deck, the sneaky Malkavians, Aaron arrived with the Salubri and I decided it was time for my freshly assembled Path of Power deck to leave the safety of its card sleeves and face reality. The seating arrangement was less than ideal. My prey was the Malkavian deck, which has the irritating habit of winning games, while my predator was the Salubri, which has the equally irritating habit of carrying swords. We agreed that the first player to oust their prey would win the skirmish.

The game began cautiously. I influenced out Aaradhya and immediately called a War of Ages. I absolutely love that card. It feels like placing a curse on your prey and then casually watching the clock tick. Every turn they lose another pool, as if fate itself has marked them for collection. The best part? Once the political action succeeded, Aaradhya untapped. I genuinely think that ability is one of the coolest things in the deck. It feels like finishing a speech in parliament, checking your watch, and calmly announcing, "Right, what shall we do next?" I was fully expecting an incoming bleed and sat there with a Deflection in hand, ready to redirect someone's problems into my prey's domain like a proper politician. Strangely enough, the bleed never came.

Meanwhile, Aaron brought out Djeneba, equipped a weapon and immediately started looking like someone whose diplomatic solutions begin and end with sharp objects. My wife, on the other hand, was quietly assembling a nightmare. Dr. Stephen Norton appeared, followed by Colette and before long the Malkavian machine was running at full speed. Stealth bleeds slipped through unnoticed while the Salubri struggled to catch them. Aaron was also having a rather unfortunate relationship with his Deflections. Every time he needed one, it was apparently vacationing somewhere else in the library. The growing Malkavian momentum forced me to become more aggressive. Around turn four I successfully pushed through a Kine Resources Contested, allocating three damage to my prey, followed by an enhanced bleed using Enchant Kindred. At this point I felt reasonably safe. I had a wake card. I had a Deflection. I had confidence. But as history repeatedly demonstrates, confidence is often the final warning sign before disaster.

The following turn I attempted another Kine Resources Contested. This time, however, my predator was ready. Aaradhya suddenly found herself in combat with Abaddon. Now, in my head, this encounter was going to be a minor inconvenience. Aaradhya would play Majesty, gracefully leave combat, and continue her political career. Instead, Abaddon politely informed her that Majesty had been cancelled by Anticipation. What followed was three rounds of what can only be described as an educational experience involving a very angry Salubri and a very sharp sword. By the end of combat, Aaradhya was sitting on two blood. A painful lesson was learned that evening: sometimes politics fail because your opponent brings a weapon to the debate.

My library wasn't particularly cooperative either. The master cards seemed determined to remain hidden. The only one I managed to play was Black Forest Base, which survived approximately as long as a snowman in a volcano before being burned the following turn. My Villeins never appeared. My carefully planned economy remained purely theoretical.

After about ninety minutes, death finally arrived for the Salubri. Not dramatically. Not heroically. It arrived in the form of lurking shadows, stealth modifiers, Colette returning after a Spying Mission and enough bleed enhancement to make accountants nervous. The final pool disappeared, and my wife once again emerged victorious. At this point I am beginning to suspect her Malkavian deck isn't a deck at all. It is some kind of eldritch artifact that feeds on victory points and refuses to lose.

Despite my defeat, I had an absolute blast. I finally got to play the Path of Power deck properly. I passed political actions, watched War of Ages slowly grind away at my prey, learned valuable lessons about combat and received a memorable beating from a sword-wielding Salubri. For some players, getting punched repeatedly in combat might be a negative experience. For Sabbat vampires, that's just another Thursday. 

The game never ends, only pauses. I'll see you at the next move. 

Custodian Hargrave

The Dead are recruiting

The graveyard was silent except for the sound of rain tapping against marble. Not the comforting kind of rain either. This was the cold, patient sort that seeps through coats and makes mortals question every life decision that brought them outside at midnight. A circle of candles burned around the crypt entrance, their flames bending unnaturally whenever the wind carried whispers through the cemetery. Three figures stood there unmoving, dressed in black so immaculate it almost looked ceremonial. One of them held an ancient silver bowl. Another carried a shovel stained with fresh earth. The third simply watched. 

The ritual began without words. Blood dripped slowly into the bowl, dark and thick like spilled wine beneath moonlight. The eldest among them drew symbols into the mud with a bone-white finger while the youngest nervously glanced toward the mausoleum doors, clearly wondering whether the dead appreciated being disturbed this late at night. Somewhere beneath them came a dull knock. Then another. Slow. Deliberate. Like someone politely asking to be let out. 

 

"Good," the elder finally whispered. "That means it's working." 

The stone doors creaked open. The smell arrived first: wet soil, old wood, and the kind of ancient decay that no amount of expensive perfume could truly hide. A pale hand emerged from the darkness below, followed by another. The youngest member of the ritual instinctively stepped back while the elder smiled proudly, like a Ventrue presenting a successful quarterly report. Around them the cemetery remained silent, but the atmosphere had changed completely. Something had answered. Something always answers when vampires start treating death like administration paperwork.

Recently I started looking into two decks that pulled me in immediately: the Path of Death Sabbat deck and the Hecata deck. Apparently my VTES journey has now entered what I can only describe as the "necromancy phase". Some players enjoy stealth-bleed. Others love combat. Meanwhile I seem increasingly fascinated by vampires conducting suspicious rituals in abandoned crypts while recruiting assistants who absolutely should not still be moving. 

The first thing that attracted me to the Path of Death deck was the atmosphere. Sabbat decks already carry this energy of "we are probably the villains here and we are perfectly fine with that", but Path of Death takes it further. There is something wonderfully unsettling about the combination of Oblivion powers, death rituals and zombies shambling around doing your administrative tasks. It feels less like a political organization and more like a midnight cult that accidentally gained voting rights. And, naturally, the deck contains Tremere antitribu. Which immediately activated the part of my brain that has spent twenty years making questionable decisions involving blood sorcery. I know they are Sabbat. I know they are technically heretics from the perspective of proper Tremere hierarchy. But they are still Tremere wielding dark rituals while looking mysterious, so my loyalty wavered immediately. Again. 

Mechanically, I also find the deck fascinating. The ability to recruit expendable allies creates this constant pressure at the table. Your opponents can destroy your vampires, sure, but suddenly there are zombies everywhere like some kind of undead customer support department. Every time I saw the deck played, it felt relentless. You remove one threat and two more emerge from the shadows carrying sharp objects and deeply unresolved issues. What I particularly enjoy is how the deck weaponizes inevitability. Some decks explode quickly. Path of Death feels slower, heavier, like a funeral procession steadily approaching the table while everyone pretends not to notice. Then suddenly your prey realizes they are surrounded by corpses and terrible decisions. 

The interesting thing is that neither the Path of Death nor the Hecata have truly great tournament results yet. They appear here and there, certainly capable of winning games, but they are not exactly dominating the competitive landscape. Part of me actually likes that. There is something charming about archetypes that still feel unexplored, slightly mysterious, perhaps waiting for the right pieces to truly come together. And I suspect those pieces may arrive later this year. The upcoming New Blood decks could be exactly what these archetypes need. A few efficient crypt additions, some stronger support cards, maybe a bit more consistency and suddenly these dark little death cults might become genuinely frightening. VTES history has shown many times that a handful of good additions can completely reshape how a clan or archetype performs. I would not be surprised at all if both Hecata and Path of Death receive a significant boost. 

The Hecata, on the other hand, fascinate me for entirely different reasons. If the Sabbat Path of Death feels like a death cult operating in abandoned catacombs, the Hecata feel like death became a family business generations ago and is now managed through careful bookkeeping and passive-aggressive dinners. I absolutely love their theme. Necromancy in Vampire always had this wonderfully uncomfortable atmosphere. Tremere blood magic feels academic and controlled. Hecata rituals feel personal. Intimate. The kind of thing performed in candlelit rooms where everyone speaks quietly because the dead might overhear. Their connection to ghosts and corpses gives the clan this constant sense of existing slightly sideways from the rest of vampire society. And naturally, this translates into VTES beautifully. The ally recruitment aspect pulled me in almost immediately. I love the idea of slowly building a board full of horrifying associates while my actual vampires calmly orchestrate events from behind the scenes. There is something deeply amusing about ancient undead monsters outsourcing their problems to ghosts, shambling corpses and suspiciously loyal retainers. It feels incredibly thematic. What surprised me most while researching both decks is how differently they approach "death". The Path of Death deck feels aggressive, oppressive, almost religious in its brutality. The Hecata feel patient. Calculated. Like they already know everyone at the table eventually belongs to them anyway. 

 

Now, there is one thing that both decks lack compared to my beloved Ventrue and Lasombra experiments: politics. There are fewer dramatic referendums, fewer moments of elegant betrayal, fewer opportunities to smile politely while redistributing someone else's pool. As someone who genuinely enjoys political decks, this initially made me hesitant. I like table talk. I like negotiations. I like the subtle tension of votes hanging in the balance. But perhaps these decks offer a different kind of excitement. Instead of controlling the table through titles and influence, they slowly build inevitability through rituals, recursion, allies, and death itself. Less "senate debate", more "forbidden ceremony in a crypt while something scratches at the walls". Over the next few weeks, I suspect I will end up building one of these decks. I genuinely do not know yet whether the Path of Death or the Hecata will win me over first. Both whisper temptations in different ways. One offers Sabbat brutality mixed with Tremere heresy. The other promises elegant necromancy and patient inevitability. Whichever path I choose, I already know one thing for certain: once the deck is built and tested, I will absolutely write about the experience here. Assuming, of course, the ritual succeeds. 

The game never ends, only pauses. I'll see you at the next move. 

Custodian Hargrave

Princes among predators: Blood in Bedford

The Bedford tournament happened yesterday and, dear reader, what a glorious mess it was.

In my previous post I mentioned that I had finally chosen my deck for the tournament. Since Tremere and Ventrue are my two favourite clans and the Tremere carried me through my first tournament in Cambridge, I felt it was only proper to give the blue-blooded aristocrats their chance. After all, one cannot spend this much time talking about influence, politics and refined superiority without eventually showing up with a Ventrue deck.

Now, there was one small issue with this master plan: Ventrue are not exactly dominating the competitive scene at the moment. Their recent tournament results could best be described as "historically significant". Still, I convinced myself there was logic behind my decision. The meta is currently filled with combat rush decks, and fewer political decks usually means fewer titled vampires at the table. Fewer titled vampires should mean easier votes for me. On paper, this sounded brilliant. Unfortunately, VTES is not played on paper, it is played by other people, who have the deeply inconvenient habit of interfering with your plans.

I also decided against running a star vampire. As much as I love the idea of one mighty elder carrying the deck on their elegant shoulders, I had already seen enough combat decks to know what would happen. You spend half the game influencing out your superstar, they immediately get punched into torpor by something with claws and anger management issues, and suddenly your grand strategy resembles a luxury yacht taking on water. So instead, I opted for lower-cap G6 and G7 princes. More bodies, more flexibility, fewer emotional catastrophes.

The library reflected the usual Ventrue lifestyle choices: Freak Drives for efficiency, Governs for tasteful aggression and influence acceleration, Enchant Kindred for subtle networking opportunities and political actions like Kine Resources Contested, Camarilla's Iron Fist and Parity Shift. Thanks to James, I also acquired staples like Giant's Blood and Jake Washington, which made me feel like I was slowly being accepted into polite vampire society.

Aaron and I drove to Bedford together. I brought my Ventrue; he took the Salubri deck, which (if I am completely honest) was probably the stronger deck in almost every imaginable way. Better combat. Better intercept. Same Freak Drives. Same Governs. Same Deflects. My only real advantage was politics and the stubborn belief that well-dressed vampires deserve respect. This did not discourage me in the slightest. The Ventrue aesthetic is simply too powerful. If I am going to lose, I at least want to lose while looking like I own the building.

Before the tournament started, we made the wise decision to eat something first. Experience has taught me that making strategic decisions while hungry leads to mistakes. This applies equally to Methuselahs and software engineers.

My first table was an absolute delight. We had Ian, myself, Hugh, Aaron, and Pedro. Ian, my predator, played Lasombra, while Hugh, my prey, brought Tzimisce. The game developed smoothly. Pedro pressured Ian heavily, giving me room to establish what I can only describe as a corporate board meeting with fangs. Hugh also pressured Aaron's Salubri, which enabled Pedro to continue setting up his combos.

Midway through the game, I was ready to start leaning harder on my prey, but I desperately needed to cycle cards. When Pedro played KRCG News Radio, I used Sudden Reversal to cancel it, partly because I genuinely needed to get rid of the Sudden, partly because I was desperately fishing for political actions. What I did not realize was that casually interfering cross-table with someone's master card creates tension remarkably quickly. In hindsight, I probably could have waited. After the game, we discussed it and Pedro kindly pointed out that it didn't actually hurt his game much, but the move was still considered somewhat impolite. A valuable Ventrue lesson was learned that day: if you are going to interfere with people's business, at least do it elegantly. After two hours, we were all still alive. Half a victory point each. No blood feuds formed. Success.

Table 1

My second table was terrifying from the very beginning. Manuel brought rush Matasuntha Gangrel, the kind of deck that looks at your carefully dressed prince and immediately asks, "What if we removed his face?" Hugh sat there with Tzimisce, Niki brought ancient Ventrue and Ventrue antitribu crypt cards I had never even seen before and my prey Matt was playing Path of Caine. My first vampire was Lodin, Prince of Chicago. Niki's first vampire? Horatio, who can call a referendum to become Prince of Chicago. The chances of this happening felt astronomically low, yet somehow perfectly appropriate for VTES. This game was brutal. Alice Chen spent more time in torpor than upright. At one point Hugh kindly rescued her from torpor after Manuel and I forgot our deal to do so. Naturally, I repaid this kindness by later allocating one point of Kine Resources damage to Hugh instead of someone else. The revenge was immediate. Apparently Tzimisce do not hold grudges. They sculpt them carefully and return them with interest. Alice went right back into torpor. I learned an important lesson there: if someone saves your vampire, perhaps do not immediately punish them politically. It sends mixed signals. Around the 90-minute mark, I thought I saw an opening to oust Matt. I committed everything. Every bleed, every action, every ounce of pressure. It almost worked. Almost. Then Niki casually hit me for 9 pool in one turn while all my vampires were tapped. No wakes. No deflections. Just the sudden realization that I had overextended spectacularly. No VP this round. At that point, I was convinced my Ventrue had failed.

Table 2

And then came the third table. This was THE game.

James sat as my prey with a horrifying Nosferatu antitribu deck capable of casually throwing stealth six bleeds or direct pool damage that cannot be deflected. Antonio fell first. Then Ian. Then Aaron. Soon it was just me and the monster. At this point James had devoured three players and gained eighteen extra pool, which made the situation feel less like a duel and more like trying to politically negotiate with a freight train. But the Ventrue stood firm. I survived the first terrifying turn and then unleashed everything. Political actions. Conditioned bleeds. Freak Drives. Governs. Multi-actions carried the game heavily. James had a thirteen-card hand size by then, but no library remaining. For the first time all tournament, I saw a path to victory. One more turn survived. One more wave of political pressure. One more carefully timed bleed. And suddenly… it was over. I had ousted the predator that consumed three entire players. I genuinely stood there for a moment trying to process what had happened. The Ventrue had done it (I better not mention the mistakes and misplays that happened due to my excitement, luckily Antonio remained at the table to help with the rules).

At that point, I was ready to pack up and head home. Then Antonio casually informed me that with 2.5 VP I had actually made the finals. Reader, I was ecstatic.

Finals

This feeling lasted approximately until I saw my opening crypt and hand in the finals. All seven-cap princes. Mostly Governs, Enchant Kindreds and a Daring the Dawn. It was catastrophic. I could not Govern down. I could not aggressively accelerate. I could barely pretend this hand was functional. I swallowed my pride and slowly influenced out one prince, already feeling behind. Antonio, meanwhile, announced he "needed to recycle cards", which in practical terms meant my vampire got repeatedly grappled and punched down to one blood before I had even properly settled into the game. Apparently this could have gone worse. Or so I was told. The finals were played brilliantly by much stronger and more experienced players and I was ousted second.

And yet…

What a tournament! I met wonderful people, received gifted cards from the community(thanks to James, Niki and Hugh), made the finals in only my second tournament and most importantly, we had an incredible amount of fun. My Ventrue elders would probably approve. Though they would almost certainly tell me not to antagonize Tzimisce who just saved my vampire (right?).

The game never ends, only pauses. I'll see you at the next move.

Custodian Hargrave

A matter of taste

The Bedford tournament is next week, which means I have officially entered the phase of the hobby where I spend more time thinking about VTES than actually playing it. Unfortunately, recent weeks did not offer many opportunities for games, so unlike proper, disciplined Methuselahs, I cannot rely on a carefully tested tournament deck refined through dozens of brutal practice sessions.

No, my preparation has been far more sophisticated.

I have been staring at deck lists, reorganizing cards, overthinking ratios and occasionally looking out the window dramatically while pretending this somehow improves my strategic understanding. Still, the closer the tournament gets, the more certain things become. When choosing a deck, I realized I care about two things above all else.

First, I want to play a clan I genuinely enjoy. My Tremere performed admirably in Cambridge and I had an excellent time with them, but part of the fun of VTES is exploring different corners of the World of Darkness. Playing the same thing repeatedly feels a bit too practical and practicality has never really been the reason I fell in love with Vampire.

Second, I want a deck with a playstyle that actually captures what I enjoy about the setting itself. Not just winning, but how you win. The tension. The politics. The subtle manipulation. The quiet moment where someone realizes three turns too late that agreeing with you was a terrible idea.

Those two criteria narrowed my options considerably.

The truth is, I am not a competitive player. Not really. My goals for Bedford are fairly simple. I want to have fun, make sure the people at my table also have fun and hopefully play slightly better than I did at my first tournament. If I leave Bedford with a few clever plays, a memorable story and perhaps more than half a victory point this time, I will consider the evening a success. And so, after much consideration, I made my choice. I decided to bring a deck that is neither flashy nor particularly feared. An clan that rarely dominates tournament reports and certainly does not inspire panic when revealed at the table. In fact, I have never actually won a game with this deck. Not once. And yet, I keep coming back to it. Because when I think about what I truly enjoy in VTES, this deck captures it perfectly. The influence. The power plays. The feeling that every action at the table should look civilized right until the moment it becomes personal.

A quick search on VDB tells me that not many people play this clan competitively these days. That is perfectly fine. I am not going to Bedford expecting to conquer the tournament scene. I am going because I enjoy the game, the atmosphere and the stories that emerge from a good table. And if all goes well, I shall return from Bedford with another story worth telling. Preferably one not involving torpor.

The game never ends, only pauses. I'll see you at the next move.

Custodian Hargrave

The night beauty died

I was there the night beauty died.

Diana Iadanza, radiant, untouchable, a Justicar among artists stood beneath invisible chandeliers, ready to host a Grand Ball that would never be remembered. The music should have risen. The dancers should have gathered. Instead, the night was torn apart by blades and blood. The Assamites came like a storm, silent, precise, inevitable. There was no elegance, no negotiation, only violence. The Ball never began. The Toreador dream burned before the first note could be played.

This Saturday I finally had a chance to play VTES with friends again, and what better setting than a pub in Cambridge, because nothing says "eternal struggle" like ordering drinks between turns and trying to remember your pool count over background chatter.

David brought his Lasombra, Manuel arrived with his ever-reliable Assamites, Aaron gave the Salubri a spin, and I, of course, brought the Toreadors. Someone had to represent culture at the table.

The seating ended up as: Salubri > Lasombra > Assamite > Toreador. A perfectly reasonable arrangement, if your definition of reasonable includes being hunted by professional assassins.

The game began slowly, as it often does when everyone pretends not to be dangerous yet. Karif, Gnaeus, Opikun and Diana all made their appearances, and we spent the early turns setting up, quiet, cautious and slightly suspicious of one another. My starting crypt was kind, with two additional princes waiting, so I felt optimistic.

That optimism didn't last long. The Salubri escalated things first when Opikun equipped a weapon dealing aggravated damage, effectively announcing that close combat was now a terrible idea. Aaron was immediately promoted to "problem" and David had to tread carefully as his prey. Meanwhile, the Assamites started handing out Contracts like invitations nobody wanted. Manuel made several attempts on me, but I managed to deflect those attacks toward the Salubri, slowly draining his pool. David joined in on the redirection game as well, occasionally passing pressure back to the Assamites. It was one of those tables where no one wanted attention, but everyone kept receiving it anyway.

By the late game, all of us had three vampires out. My Toreador trio (Diana, Catalina and Flavio) were finally ready, but my hand had other ideas. For what felt like ages, I drew no political actions at all. A Toreador deck without politics feels like hosting a gala with no music. technically impressive, but deeply disappointing. Eventually, though, I drew Kine Resources Contested and things started moving. With a clear vote advantage, I pushed it through, dropping the Salubri to 3 pool and the Assamites to 10, while I remained comfortably at 9.

Then came Camarilla’s Iron Fist, the perfect follow-up. Elegant. Devastating. The finishing move. The encore after the performance. The action succeeded. I counted the votes. I had five. David had four. Everything aligned. And then, like a perfectly timed heckle from the shadows, David played Ominous Chorus. Suddenly, my carefully orchestrated masterpiece lost its rhythm. The numbers shifted. The vote failed. The Salubri lived. And just like that, the Toreador dream collapsed.

The aftermath was swift. Over the next two rounds, the Assamites dismantled my board, burning some of my vampires and leaving the rest too drained to do anything meaningful. It turns out that missing your big moment in VTES often leads to someone else having theirs. In the end, the timer saved me and we all walked away with half a victory point.

I never got to play Grand Ball, which felt almost poetic. Even funnier, the pub had live music that night and a band started playing halfway through our game. So while my Toreadors failed to host their own grand event, the background music ensured the atmosphere was still appropriately dramatic, though communication became slightly more challenging.

The game itself was fantastic. The Salubri performed impressively, the Assamites were relentless and I even had a brief alliance with the Lasombra: we each saved one of the other's vampires from torpor, which in VTES terms is practically a lifelong friendship. We laughed, we bled and we would absolutely do it again.

The game never ends, only pauses. I'll see you at the next move.

Custodian Hargrave