The curious case of missing Wilhelminas

Over the last year, my VTES collection has been quietly expanding. Like every respectable vampire, it started with a modest domain and eventually turned into something requiring proper administration. Building decks became increasingly challenging because every new idea began with the same question: "Do I actually own enough copies of this card?" To answer that, I needed a better storage system.

So I bought one of those large card storage boxes with dividers and began organizing everything. Unexpectedly, my daughter decided this looked like a fun activity too. We started sorting cards together, first by type (masters, actions, reactions, and so on) while admiring the artwork and occasionally declaring that a vampire looked "too grumpy" or "pretty cool." Once we had conquered the card types, we took the next logical step and alphabetized everything. Crypt cards followed soon after and that was when we noticed something odd. Some piles were enormous. Others looked positively lonely. Naturally, this led to a completely reasonable question that absolutely every stats loving VTES player asks themselves at this point...

What is the distribution of first letters in vampire names?

Anyone who has ever opened an occult book knows that names have power. Wizards guard true names. Demons fear them. Ancient spirits bargain with them. In fantasy worlds, learning someone's real name often gives you power over them. In real life, knowing the name of the customer service representative at Tesco at least makes your complaint sound a little more personal. Either way, names matter.

As a nerd, I did what any sensible Tremere apprentice would do. I wrote a script. It marched through the entire VTES crypt database and counted every vampire by the first letter of their name. The results were... surprisingly interesting.

A: 194 (10.9%)
B: 86 (4.8%)
C: 96 (5.4%)
D: 103 (5.8%)
E: 61 (3.4%)
F: 42 (2.4%)
G: 85 (4.8%)
H: 68 (3.8%)
I: 40 (2.2%)
J: 97 (5.4%)
K: 73 (4.1%)
L: 110 (6.2%)
M: 161 (9.0%)
N: 54 (3.0%)
O: 29 (1.6%)
P: 54 (3.0%)
Q: 11 (0.6%)
R: 87 (4.9%)
S: 133 (7.5%)
T: 72 (4.0%)
U: 21 (1.2%)
V: 48 (2.7%)
W: 19 (1.1%)
X: 7 (0.4%)
Y: 17 (1.0%)
Z: 17 (1.0%)

The first thing that jumped out was the overwhelming dominance of the letter A. Nearly 11% of all vampires begin with it. Apparently, if you're embracing someone into immortality and cannot think of a name, simply start with an A and you'll fit right in. M and S also perform exceptionally well, while poor old Q, X, W, and U are practically ghost towns.

Where are Quentin, Quentinius, Quasar, Wilhelmina, Wenceslaus, Xanthe, Xenia, Ulysses, Ursula,  Octavia, and Ozric? Surely the World of Darkness has room for at least one terrifying vampire accountant called Wilhelmina.

Meanwhile, I think the letter A can safely take a well-earned holiday. We probably have enough Aarons (or Aerons), Abrahams, Adelinos, Alexes and Alicias to populate an entire Camarilla convention, although real-world first names also heavily favour the letter A. Apparently, humanity has been neglecting the Wilhelminas for centuries.

Of course, none of this information will help you win tournaments. It won't improve your deck building or make your bleeds any stronger. This isn't a problem that needs solving, I was simply curious. Like any respectable Tremere apprentice, I occasionally find myself researching things that absolutely nobody asked about. Sometimes it's refreshing to step away from deck optimization and instead investigate completely pointless mysteries, simply because they're interesting.  Besides, every collection tells a story. Mine told me to get more cards!

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

Custodian Hargrave

Necromancy is surprisingly good team building

Last weekend we gathered once again in Cambridge for what has become one of my favourite traditions: five friends, five decks and a few hours of politics, betrayal and the occasional vampire discovering that walking into combat was, in hindsight, a poor choice. The usual suspects were there (David, Manuel, Cristina, Aaron and myself) but this game came with one important difference. I wanted to give my freshly built Hecata deck its first proper trial. Up until now I had never played a deck that relied heavily on allies, especially stinky zombies, so I had absolutely no idea whether I had designed an effective necromantic engine or simply an expensive way of filling the ash heap. To make things even more interesting, I asked everyone to play as ruthlessly as possible. No friendly reminders, no "oh, you forgot to untap." If I missed a trigger, that was entirely my fault (and during the game, of course I did). It turns out tournament discipline is a lot like learning to ride a bicycle: you remember best after falling off a few times.

The seating ended up as Cristina (Path of Death) > Me (Hecata) > David (Ventrue) > Aaron (Salubri) > Manuel (Path of Caine). I approached the opening turns cautiously. I had never actually faced a Path of Death deck before and wasn't sure how much pressure my predator would generate. Fortunately for me, Cristina had far more urgent problems. Manuel's Brujah antitribu were already knocking on her crypt door, which gave me the breathing room every Hecata secretly dreams about. I quietly held a few Family Gatherings, influenced out my vampires, and slowly started inviting the dead back to work. There is something wonderfully thematic about Family Gatherings. Most families get together for birthdays or Sunday lunch. The Hecata apparently use theirs to recruit zombies. The deck felt surprisingly smooth. Aggressive Corpses, which I initially wasn't entirely convinced about, proved remarkably useful, slowly grinding away at my prey's vampires until they spent more time hunting than actually accomplishing anything. The only thing that disappointed me was the pace of ally recruitment. I had imagined a cemetery overflowing with restless servants by the late game. Instead, it felt more like hiring one ghost at a time through an exceptionally slow human resources department. That is definitely something I want to improve before the next outing.

David, meanwhile, demonstrated once again why elegant Ventrue politics should never be underestimated. His crypt revolved around Lucinde and a collection of titled princes who, thanks to Obfuscate, could slip important political actions through with frustrating consistency. I managed to keep his smaller princes busy by repeatedly throwing zombies at them, forcing them to hunt rather than govern, but Lucinde herself remained completely untouchable. It felt like trying to disrupt a board meeting by arguing with middle management while the CEO calmly continued signing documents upstairs.

Aaron played his now well-travelled Salubri deck and every time I see it, I become a little more convinced that I originally built it with the wrong emphasis. I leaned heavily into combat because, let's be honest, magical swords are difficult to resist. But after watching the deck evolve over several games, I suspect the real strength lies elsewhere. Between multi-actions, solid disciplines and reliable bleed potential, I can easily imagine it becoming far more aggressive outside of combat. Aaron seems perfectly happy regardless. Whether he keeps choosing the deck because he enjoys three-eyed vampires, aggravated damage, or simply proving me wrong every game, I cannot yet say.

Then there was Manuel. At this point I honestly believe he is physically incapable of building a deck that doesn't terrify people in combat. His Path of Caine deck was every bit as brutal as I expected. Hector was particularly memorable, casually threatening aggravated hand strikes that made everyone at the table suddenly reconsider their life choices. Watching Aaron's Salubri survive an encounter with Hector thanks to Fortitude felt less like winning combat and more like surviving a head-on collision with a freight train. Manuel has an uncanny ability to strip blood from opposing vampires with ruthless efficiency and every time I play against one of his decks I leave with a renewed appreciation for not entering combat voluntarily.

Cristina's Path of Death deck also had its own star. Ashur-uballit seemed determined to demonstrate that death is more of a polite suggestion than a permanent condition. He found himself in torpor multiple times during the game, only to crawl back into action again and again. His enormous blood reserve allowed Cristina to perform all sorts of sinister rituals while refusing to stay down. It was like watching the villain in a horror film that keeps getting back up no matter how many times the audience collectively says, "Surely that's the end of him". But Ashur-uballit (just like Palpy) somehow survived!

By the end of the game, David rightfully claimed the victory, having established the strongest position at the table before the timer ran out. As for me, I walked away genuinely pleased with the Hecata experiment. The deck felt thematic, atmospheric, and unlike anything I've played before. It also exposed a few weaknesses, I'd like to recruit allies more consistently and get my undead workforce onto the table a little faster. Every good manager learns something after the first team-building exercise and apparently the Hecata are no exception. The zombies are enthusiastic, the ghosts seem reasonably motivated and with a bit more practice I might even turn them into an efficient department. Human Resources would probably have some concerns, but fortunately the dead rarely file complaints. I shall now return to my sanctuary, consult ancient tomes, rearrange a few corpses and see whether the next version of the deck can make death arrive just a little earlier.

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

Custodian Hargrave

Building a Hecata deck

There are some doors in the World of Darkness that sensible vampires never open. Behind them lie old promises, forgotten names and spirits that should probably be left undisturbed. The members of Hecata, of course, looked at those doors centuries ago and thought, "I wonder what's behind this one?" Then they opened every single one. That, in a nutshell, is why I find them so fascinating (plus I have always loved the Giovanni and the Cappadocians before).

For some time now I have wanted to build my Hecata deck. This is very much an experiment, so please don't mistake it for a tournament guide. Some of the cards I include will be there because they fit the atmosphere rather than because they are mathematically optimal. If I wanted to optimize everything, I would probably end up playing another Ventrue political deck. This project is about something different. It is about building a deck that feels like the Hecata should feel: mysterious, patient and always one whispered ritual away from something very disturbing.

My Hecata collection currently consists of two starter decks and three New Blood decks, which gives me enough pieces to begin assembling something interesting. Before touching a single card, however, I wanted to decide on the deck's identity. To me, the Hecata are vampires who operate just beyond the veil separating life and death. Their greatest strength isn't raw violence or explosive bleeds, it is their relationship with things that refuse to stay dead. Naturally, that means zombies, wraiths and enough Oblivion rituals to make the local priest reconsider his career.

The first challenge appeared immediately in the crypt. I absolutely love Hel-Blá. In a calmer world, one with fewer anarchs carrying Torn Signposts and anger issues, I would happily build the deck around her. Unfortunately, my recent tournament experiences have taught me that investing nine pool into a superstar vampire can sometimes feel like buying an expensive new car only to have someone reverse a truck into it before you've left the dealership. This time I decided to stay with lower-cap vampires. Losing one still hurts, but at least it doesn't require a minute of silence.

The crypt almost built itself after that. Mora, the Death Seer immediately became the centrepiece. Her ability to recover cards from the ash heap feels very much Hecata, as if death itself were simply another filing cabinet to browse through. Lenelle, Mambo of Birmingham joins her because exchanging cards between your hand and the ash heap sounds incredibly useful once the rituals start flowing. Alek König deserves a mention simply because every deck appreciates a three-cap vampire with superior Oblivion. He also reminds me of a fantasy dwarf, which means every time I see him I expect him to complain about tunnels rather than haunt them. Monica Giovanni was an automatic inclusion as well. Superior disciplines across the board, an excellent capacity and artwork that perfectly captures the cold confidence of someone who could negotiate your inheritance before arranging your funeral. I still secretly wish she had Dominate and Potence like the old Giovanni, but one can only dream right? Gebeyehu Abdu brings superior Auspex for those all-important Telepathic Misdirections, while Peter St. John, Hiromitsu Asano, and Holliday "Burgundy" Hall round out the lower end of the crypt with cheap access to Oblivion and useful utility. I would certainly have liked one or two more small-cap vampires, but compromises are part of deck building. Even necromancers have budgets.

The library almost wrote its own ghost story. Rotting Behemoths are simply too thematic to ignore. If you're a clan of necromancers, eventually you should probably animate something large enough to make your prey reconsider combat. Spectral Servitors are another favourite, quietly drifting across the table to deliver those irritating little bleeds or help with defense. Since Behemoths are quite costly, Split the Veil felt like an obvious inclusion to keep the undead workforce growing without constantly paying premium prices. Shroud of Decay provides both bleed enhancement and unavoidable pool damage, while Psychophagia should help replenish the blood inevitably spent on rituals, or lost after some overly enthusiastic Brujah mistakes my vampire for a punching bag. To make sure those rituals actually resolve, I included the familiar Oblivion stealth package of Shadow Cast, Shadow Cloak, and Stygian Shroud. Add Telepathic Misdirection and a few wake effects and suddenly the deck starts feeling like less of a failure and more of a functioning strategy.

The first version of the deck looks something like this:

Crypt:

2x Mora, the Death Seer
2x Lenelle, Mambo of Birmingham
2x Monica Giovanni
2x Gebeyehu Abdu
1x Alek König
1x Hiromitsu Asano
1x Holliday "Burgundy" Hall
1x Peter St. John

Library:

1x Biotech Company Hunting Ground
1x Cappadocian Crypt
6x Family Gathering
1x Giant's Blood
2x Perfectionist
1x Powerbase: Munich
3x Villein

2x Psychophagia
8x Shroud of Decay
4x Split the Veil

8x Spectral Servitor
8x Rotting Behemoth

2x Freak Drive
5x Shadow Cast
5x Shadow Cloak
2x Stygian Shroud
2x Where the Veil Thins

2x Eyes of Argus
3x Shadow Sentinel
7x Telepathic Misdirection

The overall game plan is refreshingly different from what I normally play. There are no explosive Govern chains, no overwhelming vote lock and no grand speeches from impeccably dressed Princes. Instead, the deck wants to take its time. Family Gatherings should help bring vampires out steadily, Spectral Servitors begin applying early pressure, and once enough allies find their way into the ash heap, the Rotting Behemoths can emerge to deal with problematic vampires. It feels less like sprinting toward victory and more like watching fog slowly roll across a cemetery. Nothing dramatic happens at first. Then, eventually, you realize you are completely surrounded.

Whether this turns out to be brilliant or completely misguided remains to be seen. Like most of my deck-building adventures, it is based on equal parts curiosity, atmosphere and optimism. I'll be testing the deck over the coming weeks, and I'm genuinely excited to discover whether the Hecata reward careful planning... or whether the dead decide they have plans of their own.

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

Custodian Hargrave