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

Choosing my weapon for Bedford

It has happened again. I have looked at the calendar, nodded thoughtfully like a Ventrue reviewing quarterly results and made a decision that will almost certainly lead to questionable life choices: I am going to the next VTES tournament in Bedford in May. And I am excited. Properly excited. The kind of excitement that makes you mentally replay previous games, rethink deck choices and suddenly believe that this time you will definitely make better decisions. Probably.

My first tournament in Cambridge was an incredible experience. I brought my Tremere deck, which felt like the safe, scholarly choice. It was reliable, defensive, and allowed me to pretend I knew exactly what I was doing while quietly reacting to everything happening around me. It served me well and I had a lot of fun with it. But now… now I feel the pull of something different. The dangerous kind of confidence that whispers, "What if you tried something new?"

The problem is not the lack of options. The problem is that I have too many. Each deck sits there, metaphorically raising its hand, promising glory, victory points and definitely not embarrassing me in front of experienced players. I do not believe them. But I want to.

First, there's the Lasombra voting deck. This one is very tempting. It has everything I enjoy: politics, pressure and the subtle implication that if you disagree, something unpleasant might happen to your vampires. Lasombra feel powerful when things go right. You pass votes, control the table and occasionally remind people that blocking you is a life decision they may regret. Of course, this also means the table might decide that you are the problem. Which is fair. But still inconvenient.

Then there's the Banu Haqim combat deck. The elegant solution to most problems: violence. There is something deeply satisfying about playing Banu Haqim. You don't negotiate, you don't debate, you identify a threat and remove it with professional efficiency. It's clean, direct and occasionally terrifying for everyone involved. The downside is that sometimes you clear the board so efficiently that you forget to actually win the game. It's a bit like perfectly cleaning your house and then realizing you forgot to cook dinner. 

Then we have the Path of Power Sabbat deck. This one is ambitious. It combines politics with that delightful Sabbat energy of "we are in charge now, whether you like it or not." With Aaradhya and Dark Selina in the mix, the deck feels like it could do something truly impressive. Or completely collapse because I didn't draw the right pieces at the right time. It's a bit like preparing a complicated ritual: you're fairly sure it will work, but there is always that small voice asking what happens if it doesn't.

And finally, the wildcard: the Salubri deck. Untested, unproven, and slightly mysterious. This is the deck equivalent of showing up to a formal gathering with someone no one has met before and confidently saying, "Trust me, this will work." It might be brilliant. It might be a disaster. It will definitely be memorable. There is a certain appeal in that.

So here I am, standing at the crossroads. Do I go with something familiar and reliable? Do I embrace raw power and aggression? Do I attempt something ambitious and political? Or do I trust in the unknown and hope for the best? At the moment, I genuinely have no idea. What I do know is this: I am looking forward to Bedford. Another chance to play, to learn and to make new mistakes (hopefully more refined ones this time). To sit at the table with experienced players and try to keep up, one decision at a time. And whichever deck I end up choosing, I'm sure it will teach me something. Possibly humility. But hopefully… also how to get more than half a victory point this time.

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

Custodian Hargrave

The Art of Losing (and why I keep coming back)

Let me start with a confession: I lose. Quite a lot, actually. Not in a dramatic, table-flipping, "this game is clearly broken" kind of way, but in a much more subtle, almost educational fashion. The kind where you confidently execute a plan, lean back slightly, and then (over the course of the next two turns) watch that plan quietly fall apart while everyone else carries on as if this was always going to happen.

The funny thing is, I haven't even had the chance to play much recently. Life has been busy, schedules misaligned and my decks have mostly been sitting idle. But that hasn't stopped me from thinking about the game. Quite the opposite. I find myself replaying past games in my head, analyzing decisions, wondering what I could have done differently. It's like a Tremere apprentice leaning over dusty notes, trying to understand which part of the ritual went wrong, except in my case, the ritual is "why did I get ousted in turn five."

When I first started playing VTES, I had a fairly straightforward expectation: build something cool, play it and eventually win a few games. That seemed reasonable enough. Instead, what I got was a steady stream of lessons disguised as defeats. My early games followed a familiar pattern. I would feel confident, execute "the plan" and then slowly realize that everyone else at the table also had a plan... and theirs actually worked.

At first, I didn't fully understand what was happening. Why was my action blocked? Why did that combat go so badly? Why did my predator suddenly decide that I was the most interesting person at the table? Over time, though, things started to make more sense. Not because I suddenly became good, but because I began to see the patterns. Timing matters. Table perception matters. And perhaps most importantly, people matter.

There was a moment in one of my games where I felt particularly proud of a political action I was about to play. I had what I thought was a solid argument, enough votes and a clear outcome in mind. I presented my case with all the confidence of a Ventrue who has already decided how the meeting will end. And then, quite calmly, the table dismantled my plan, redistributed the damage and left me wondering how I had managed to negotiate myself into a worse position than when I started. That was the moment it truly clicked: this game isn't just about playing cards, it's about navigating people.

What keeps me engaged, even when I'm not actively playing, is how differently each clan feels. When I think about my Tremere games, I remember trying to carefully manage resources and timing, only to be dragged into situations I wasn't fully prepared for. With Ventrue, there's always that expectation of control (of being the one setting the pace) until something slips, and suddenly you're negotiating for survival instead of dominance. Lasombra feel like they're always on the edge of something powerful, one good turn away from taking over the table. And Gangrel, well, Gangrel feel like they're playing a different game entirely: patient, reactive and quietly effective.

Despite all this, the outcome is often the same: someone else plays better. But instead of being discouraging, that's what makes the game interesting. Every loss carries something with it. A better understanding of when to act. A clearer sense of who the real threat is. A growing awareness that sometimes the best move is simply to do nothing and wait.

Progress in VTES doesn't feel like a sudden breakthrough (although it is entirely possible, that I am just a bad player and others improve faster). It feels more like gradually becoming less confused. You start to recognize patterns, anticipate reactions and occasionally avoid making the same mistake twice. And every now and then, something works. A well-timed action goes through. A deal holds. A plan comes together just enough to make a difference.

That's why I keep coming back to it, even when I'm not actively playing. It's not just about winning. It's about understanding. About slowly piecing together how this strange, social, strategic puzzle works. Every game leaves behind questions and for some reason, I find that incredibly satisfying. So yes, I lose. But I also think, reflect and occasionally improve. And I have a feeling that when the next game finally happens, I'll make entirely new mistakes... just slightly better ones than before.

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

Custodian Hargrave

Intercept, vanish, repeat: A Gangrel story

The Gangrel in the tabletop RPG are wild survivors: nomadic, instinctive, and fiercely independent Kindred who feel closer to beasts and wilderness than to courts and etiquette. Known for their shapeshifting powers, feral resilience and tendency to outlast enemies through grit rather than intrigue, they embody the raw, predatory side of vampirism. Yet beneath that savage reputation lies a clan defined by freedom, adaptability and a deep suspicion of authority, making them as likely to disappear into the countryside as to haunt a city's forgotten edges. Over the years, I met many Gangrel in tabletop games. Some of those encounters were distant, others genuinely unnerving, but all of them were memorable. One of my best friends was a dedicated Gangrel player, so my Tremere characters often ended up face to face with his wildlings.

During the early 2000s (when I spent many nights playing VTM) the Gangrels were dedicated members of the Camarilla. However as the metaplot progressed, they left the Camarilla because, in the end, the clan grew tired of being treated as the sect's expendable hunters and watchdogs; after Xaviar's return and his rupture with the Inner Circle, their resentment toward Camarilla authority finally turned into open departure.  

I'll admit it: I never fully bought into that decision. One day they're loyal(ish) watchdogs of the Camarilla, the next they collectively grab their coats, mutter something about "freedom" and vanish into the night. It always felt a bit like a group chat where one person says "I'm leaving" and suddenly everyone else replies "same" and disappears. The Brujah leaving? That made perfect sense: rage, rebellion, dramatic exits. The Gangrel? I expected at least a bit more… growling beforehand.

From a VTES perspective though, this created a rather fun situation. You can either go full nostalgia with G1–2 Camarilla Gangrel, or embrace the modern, slightly more feral lifestyle with G6 Anarch Gangrel. And if the tournament results are anything to go by, the latter clearly packed their bags better: 32 wins for Anarchs in 2025 versus 3 for their Camarilla cousins. Turns out freedom, claws, and a disregard for authority are a winning combination. Who knew?

When I first got into VTES, I followed the Codex of the Damned buying advice like a disciplined Tremere apprentice. I already had the V5 Gangrel precon, so naturally I added the Stanislava 25th Anniversary deck to my collection. And while I was at it, I grabbed a Gangrel New Blood as well. You know… for "options".

Those options then sat quietly in their boxes for quite some time.

Every now and then I would look at them, consider building something… and then get distracted by shinier toys. Banu Haqim with their precision. Lasombra with their shadowy politics. Path of Power whispering promises of influence. Meanwhile, the Gangrel decks just sat there, patiently, like wolves watching from the tree line. Not complaining. Not asking. Just waiting.

Eventually, curiosity (or perhaps instinct) won.

My plan was simple: go low-cap, go wide, and let the pack do the work.

The first vampire that caught my attention was Kuyen. Superior Animalism and Protean? Yes please. In my head, I immediately imagined her surrounded by Raven Spies, turning her into a feathery surveillance system. Less "vampire aristocrat", more "Hitchcock documentary gone wrong". Intercept everything, see everything, and when something actually does happen, just vanish. Because that’s the beauty of Gangrel. Someone blocks you? Fine. Combat starts? Also fine. Things look dangerous? Earth Meld, goodbye.

From the opponent's perspective, it must feel like trying to argue with someone who just walks into the woods mid-sentence. One moment you're mid-conflict, the next you're alone, confused and slightly embarrassed. And if Earth Meld isn't enough, there's Form of Mist, which is even better. Not only do you escape combat, you just… keep going. It's the VTES equivalent of stepping out of a bar fight, dusting off your coat and continuing your errands like nothing happened. Peak Gangrel energy.

Of course, not everything is perfect in the wilderness.

One thing I'm still adjusting to is the lack of explosive bleed. Coming from Dominate-heavy decks, I'm used to bleeding for 5 like it's a casual Monday morning. With Gangrel, it's different. You don't overwhelm your prey with a single decisive strike. You wear them down. Slowly. Patiently. Like nature itself. It's less "political assassination" and more "you wandered into the wrong forest and now something is following you". A thousand small cuts instead of one grand gesture. I'm not saying it's worse, it's just a different mindset. One that requires patience, positioning and a certain appreciation for inevitability.

As for the deck itself, I'm still very much in the planning phase. No polished list to share yet, just ideas, instincts, and a growing appreciation for life outside the ivory tower.

Also, real life has been a bit intrusive lately. The past couple of months haven't offered many opportunities to play, which is also why things have been a bit quieter on the blog since Cambridge. But the pack is forming. And sooner or later, it will hunt.

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

Custodian Hargrave

 

Whispers of the Third Eye

When the New Blood releases were announced, I'll admit it: I got hyped. Not the polite, "oh that's interesting" kind of hyped either. No, this was the "start planning decks before the cards even arrive" type of excitement. But if I'm being honest, it wasn't the whole release that had me excited. It was one clan in particular: the Salubri.

Now, on the tabletop I've never really been drawn to Tzimisce or Ravnos. I respect what they bring to the game and they absolutely have cool cards, but they never quite clicked with me. For me, deckbuilding is a bit like picking a football team: you don't always choose the objectively best one, you choose the one that feels right. Humans are emotional creatures after all, and apparently my emotions say: “Not today, Tzimisce.”

The Salubri, however, are a different story.

Yes, their lore involves that rather awkward centuries-long feud with the Tremere, but honestly, that just adds flavor. Conflict builds character. And besides, this is actually the first clan that grabbed my attention not because of lore, but because of their discipline combination.

Let's look at that trio: Auspex, Dominate, Fortitude.

That is a very spicy combination.

• Auspex: the undisputed king of intercept. If someone tries something sneaky at your table, chances are you'll be the one saying: "Ah yes, I'll block that."

• Dominate:  a personal favorite. Want to bloat with Govern the Unaligned? Done. Want to bleed harder with Conditioning? Also done. Want to send someone else's bleed back where it came from with Deflection? Absolutely done.

• Fortitude:  the discipline I initially underestimated. My experience with it mostly revolved around Freak Drive (because taking multiple actions is always fun) and Rolling with the Punches (because surviving combat is even more fun). My exposure might not be extensive, but what I've seen, I liked.

And the Salubri bring some additional cards that make them hit harder in combat, which never hurts. So when the New Blood: Salubri decks were announced, my reaction was immediate: Preorder three. Think later.

The plan is simple in theory: combine the New Blood cards with the V5 Salubri deck and hopefully produce something functional… or at least something entertaining.

As usual, the first step was building the crypt:

Djeneba

She has all clan disciplines at superior, which is already fantastic. Yes, she also has Animalism and Obfuscate, but for now I'm resisting the temptation to build around out-of-clan disciplines. That kind of deckbuilding wizardry I leave to players with far more experience than me. Her ability makes strikes more costly for opponents, which is funny and annoying. Add some stealth and you have a vampire that's both dangerous and frustrating to deal with.

Verdict: all three copies go in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Abaddon

First of all, his name messes with my brain. Every time I see it, my brain immediately jumps to Warhammer 40K and the Warmaster of Chaos. I keep expecting him to arrive with a Black Legion. Setting that aside, he's a very solid vampire. His ability to get to close range and continue combat is exactly the kind of thing a combat-leaning deck appreciates.

Verdict: two copies.

Barachiel

His ability to start a fight without playing an action card is extremely useful. Sometimes you just want combat to happen without all the formal paperwork.

Verdict: two copies again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To round things up, I would definitely include Sakhar, Opikun, Ilonka and Dominica. They give me a nice spread of higher and lower capacity vampires and with the exception of Dominica, everyone has superior Fortitude, which should keep things nice and durable.

The Library (a.k.a. the hard part)

And then came the library.

If choosing vampires felt straightforward, choosing library cards felt like wandering into a massive supermarket while being extremely hungry. Everything looks good. Everything seems useful. And somehow you still don’t know what to put in your basket.

As a relative neonate player, I find it much easier to identify strong vampires than to construct a balanced library from a sea of good cards. Still, there are some cards that will definitely make the cut:

Anticipation: I love this card. Cancelling an opponent's strike is already great, but the alternative (simply hitting them harder) is also appealing. If I understand the rules correctly, this can even cancel combat ends strikes like Majesty. Imagine the look on a Ventrue aristocrat's face when you politely inform them that their elegant escape plan has been… anticipated.

Feast of the Soul's Secrets: More bleed and faster influence? Yes please. That sounds like the dream of any combat deck that also wants to keep the pressure up.

Righteous Blade: This equipment feels like the bread and butter of improving strike damage. Also (and this is an important scientific deckbuilding metric) I really like the artwork.

Touch of Valeren: A lovely multi-purpose card. It can cancel damage or feed hungry vampires. A defensive trick and a snack in one neat package.

Do I have a deck list?

Of course not.

Right now the deck is still in the cooking phase and like any good recipe it might take a few attempts before it tastes right. But I wanted to share the thought process so far. The next step will be to actually assemble something playable and convince people to sit down for a test game. I’m especially curious how this deck will perform against other combat-heavy decks. (Yes, Banu Haqim, I am absolutely looking at you.) 

And, of course, I will need to prepare a very convincing explanation for my Tremere superiors about why I am suddenly spending so much time around the Salubri.

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

Custodian Hargrave

Cardinals, Cold Wars and questionable budgeting

Ever since I bought the Path of Power Sabbat decks, they've been staring at me from the shelf like a pair of very judgmental bishops. "Upgrade us," they whisper. "We were not meant to remain precons." As always, I went to VDB in search of wisdom. I found a few winning decks, admired them from a respectful distance, and immediately noticed a problem: Aaradhya. She is everywhere. Four copies. Sometimes five. Tournament winners treat her like oxygen. I, on the other hand, own… two. Two dignified, slightly lonely copies. And while I do enjoy cardboard, I couldn't justify buying additional decks just to secure one more Callous Tyrant. I am secretly hoping the upcoming Sabbat New Blood decks smuggle in another Aaradhya so I can expand my cardinal empire without needing to sell a kidney (or soul). She is absurdly good. A Sabbat cardinal gives you three votes, which is already delicious. But Aaradhya's ability to untap after a successful political action? That's just rude. It doesn't even matter whether you had the votes at the end, if the action resolves successfully, she stands up again like, "Oh, we're not done sweetheart."

While browsing VDB (as one does at unreasonable hours), I noticed another recurring name: Dark Selina from Group 5. My neonate brain tingled. +1 stealth on political actions and a cardinal? That's not a vampire, that's a legislative weapon. And why do I love that hair? What is wrong with me? Anyways, this discovery led me to try print-on-demand for the first time. I marched into Gamepod's website like a determined Lasombra and ordered copies of the 2019 Anthology decks. Now I own two Dark Selinas and two Aaradhyas. My cardinal collection is slowly forming into something that looks less like "hopeful experiment" and more like "structured ambition."

The Anthology decks also came with a delightful pile of other cards. Some of them I recognize.
Ashur Tablets: apparently important. I now own six, which makes me feel powerful even though I'm not entirely sure what ritual I'm supposed to perform with them.
Heart of Nizchetus: excellent for cycling and filtering, like emotional support for your draw phase.
Carlton Van Wyk: shows up in many decks, so I assume he’s either extremely useful or extremely good at surviving.

The rest? Especially the crypt cards? They currently sit in my binder looking mysterious and slightly smug. I'm sure one day I'll build something around them. For now, they serve an equally important function: being admired and occasionally shown to friends like, "Look, shiny vampires! No, I don't know what they do yet."

So What's Next for Path of Power?

Here's what my current crypt draft looks like:

2x Aaradhya, The Callous Tyrant
2x Dark Selina
2x Věnceslava, The Implacable
2x Üresség
1x Damian
1x Rexton “Savage” Abernathy
1x Khin Aye
1x Concordia

It's shaping up nicely. Enough cardinals to make the table uncomfortable, enough presence to matter.

Library-wise, I'm leaning heavily into politics. Cold War, Banishment and the ever-reliable Kine Resources Contested feel mandatory. With Dominate in the crypt, Govern is practically automatic. Action modifiers are still a blur, I'll need test games to figure out the right balance, but there is one certainty in this world: Unthinkable Humiliation is going in the deck. A card with that name simply demands inclusion. It feels less like a card choice and more like a life philosophy.

The weak spot, as always, is the master module. I still lack some of the staple cards everyone else seems to casually own in triplicate. But that's fine. Every Tremere apprentice starts with borrowed tomes and big ambitions. Every Ventrue neonate starts without a domain.

I am patient.

And somewhere in those shadows, the Path of Power is waiting to become something properly terrifying. 

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

Custodian Hargrave