Task failed successfully: A Salubri experiment

I always enjoy finding time to play VTES, although with work, family and life generally behaving like an overzealous predator, those opportunities are rarer than drawing Giant's Blood exactly when you need it. So when Cristina invited us over for a game, I was genuinely excited. That excitement briefly turned into disappointment when I checked the family calendar and realised I was already committed elsewhere. Fortunately, some careful diplomacy worthy of a Ventrue elder took place at home, plans were rearranged and before long I was packing my cards. This time it would just be the four of us: Cristina, Manuel, Aaron and myself.

The game was particularly interesting for me because of Aaron's deck. About six months ago, when he first started playing, he told me the idea of sword-wielding Salubri marching into combat sounded incredibly cool. So I built exactly that: a deck full of rushes, weapons and opportunities to introduce vampires to the pointy end of medieval technology. Over the following months, however, I noticed something. Aaron was improving every game, but combat was still asking a lot of him. Between strikes, presses, maneuvers, prevention, additional strikes and all the timing windows, every combat felt a bit like assembling IKEA furniture without the instructions. Before our game at Cristina's, I decided it was time for an experiment. Inspired by the terrifying Salubri power bleed deck I had faced at the Scottish Nationals, I stripped away most of the combat package, kept only the damage prevention and replaced the swords with bleed modifiers, reaction denial and block denial. The crypt barely changed (there simply aren't that many Salubri to choose from) but the deck's personality changed completely. My hope was simple: if Aaron could focus on bleeding instead of remembering the entire combat sequence, the deck would become much easier to pilot.

As it turned out... I may have created a monster.

Cristina brought her ever-improving Path of Death deck, Manuel arrived with an Antonio d'Erlette + Nephandus swarm deck that I had been curious about for ages and I continued testing my trusty Hecata. My undead workforce was ready for another performance review.

The seating ended up as Cristina (Path of Death) > Aaron (Salubri Power Bleed) > Me (Hecata) > Manuel (Nephandus Swarm).

My opening crypt couldn't have been much better. Seeing Mora there immediately made me happy, knowing I could influence her out at the end of turn two. Cristina started with Sakura, Manuel brought out Antonio and Aaron introduced Abaddon. Every time I read that name I smile. Whether the Warhammer reference is intentional or not, my inner nerd chooses to believe it absolutely is.

Very early in the game I discovered something about Manuel's deck. Antonio is good at recruiting Nephandus. Very, very good. One moment there was one cultist. The next moment there seemed to be enough of them to start applying for planning permission. Worse still, they proved remarkably efficient at dismantling my carefully recruited zombies. Apparently every Nephandus attended the same anatomy classes because they consistently knew exactly where to hit (Target Vitals baby!). Meanwhile Manuel's extended master package kept his deck cycling at an astonishing pace. Every turn felt like watching a well-oiled machine quietly become more terrifying.

Unfortunately, my own problems didn't stop there.

My predator had become... enthusiastic. Aaron wasted no time putting the redesigned deck to work. One particularly brutal turn combined block denial with heavy bleed and removed six of my pool in one go. Watching your own deck modifications being used against you is a surprisingly educational experience. Somewhere, Frankenstein was probably nodding sympathetically.

Cristina quietly did what Path of Death does best. While the rest of us were busy trying not to die, she steadily built an impressive board using Freakish Conglomerations, constantly threatening the table and reminding me why I find that archetype so fascinating. I genuinely can't wait for the Path of Death New Blood deck later this year. (No pressure, Black Chantry. None whatsoever.)

To make matters worse, several of Cristina's bleeds were politely redirected in my direction. Apparently my domain had become the table's preferred forwarding address. With around twenty minutes left on the clock, Aaron launched another devastating turn. More block denial. More bleed. This time there was no surviving it. My Hecata became the first casualty of the evening, handing Aaron a victory point and the extra pool that comes with it. The remaining three players continued their struggle until time was called, each finishing with half a victory point.

So the experiment was a success.

Aaron finished the evening with 1.5 VP and looked more comfortable with the Salubri than ever before. That alone made the experiment worthwhile. Sometimes the best optimisation isn't squeezing out another point of bleed, but reducing the player's mental load so the deck can shine. The project met every design goal... except one rather important KPI: don't get ousted by your own creation. Task failed successfully. Next time, I'll try to conduct my experiments from the other side of the table.

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

Custodian Hargrave

Beneath the streets of Edinburgh

Last Saturday, six Methuselahs gathered beneath the streets of Edinburgh, hidden away in GamesHub's basement, safely protected from dangerous things like sunshine and vampire hunters. The prize? The title of Scottish National Champion 2026. I was fortunate enough to be one of the six.

Our host for the day was Norbert, the Prince of Edinburgh himself. As any respectable Prince should, he welcomed us warmly, made sure everyone knew each other and guided us through the event with effortless calm. I did briefly question whether trusting a devoted Tzimisce player was wise, but it turns out fleshcrafting and hospitality are not mutually exclusive. Before long I had met my fellow competitors: Attila, John, Kristijan and Edd. It was my first time playing with each of them, which is one of my favourite things about tournaments. Every table feels like opening a new chapter of the Jyhad.

For the first round I finally unleashed my slightly modified Hecata deck. The seating was John (Toreador votes) > Me (Hecata) > Kristijan (Salubri power bleed) > Edd (Helena) > Norbert (Moncada Path of Power). I knew exactly what the Toreadors and Salubri were capable of, but Helena and Moncada remained complete mysteries therefore I focused on the problem I understood first: surviving politics. My Hecata have many talents, but arguing against a referendum travelling at +2 stealth is not one of them. John quickly reminded me of that fact with Camarilla's Iron Fist and Kine Resources Contested, so I responded in the only way a respectable necromancer can: I sent zombies to ruin the Toreador's party. As it turns out, even the finest Grand Ball loses some of its charm when Aggressive Corpses start wandering through the ballroom. Diana had an especially difficult evening, largely because her combat ends decided to remain somewhere near the bottom of John's library.

While my zombies were redecorating the dance floor, the rest of the table was equally entertaining. Edd's Helena deck steadily grew into the late-game monster I had heard so much about and eventually ousted Norbert, demonstrating why Helena has such a fearsome reputation. Kristijan's Salubri, meanwhile, proved much less interested in combat than I expected. Instead of swinging swords, they simply bled with alarming efficiency. I managed to reduce him to three pool and prepared the finishing blow with Shroud of Decay... only for something I'd never seen before to happen. Edd intercepted my action from across the table, saving my prey from destruction. It was a brilliant tactical decision that made perfect sense once he explained his long-term plan (of course he wanted to oust all of us in a particular order). Unfortunately for him, the stars (and perhaps the spirits) had other ideas. The table settled into a tense stalemate and, after two hours, the remaining four players each walked away with half a victory point. It was one of those games where nobody really lost because everyone spent two hours having an absolute blast.

After such an intense political manoeuvring, we decided to have lunch together at a nearby pub. There were burgers, haggis, and yes... fried Mars Bars. Scotland continues to surprise me.

With only six players, one of us had to sit out each preliminary round. This time it was my turn. I used the opportunity to do a little shopping while the others continued plotting each other's downfall. From what I gathered afterwards, Kristijan's Salubri had an exceptionally productive afternoon removing Methuselahs from the table.

Then came the finals.

I entered as fourth seed, with John following as fifth. As seating positions were chosen, I couldn't shake the feeling that everyone wanted to become my predator, but perhaps that was simply the Hecata paranoia setting in after spending too much time speaking with ghosts. The final table was John (Toreador) > Edd (Helena) > Attila (Gangrel) > Kristijan (Salubri) > Me (Hecata).

The game immediately reminded me that the starting crypt can make all the difference. Mine contained mostly lower-cap vampires, making Family Gatherings considerably less explosive than I had hoped. Things started slow, but accelerated quickly when Kristijan produced an incredible turn that stripped six pool from me almost effortlessly. I was so focused on surviving that I completely skipped my Master Phase on my next turn, only realizing halfway through my Minion Phase. It was an embarrassing mistake, but also an excellent reminder that tournaments are as much about keeping a clear head as they are about knowing your cards. I slowed down, took a breath and reassessed the table. At six pool, while everyone else comfortably sat in double digits, there was only one sensible plan: cripple my predator's ability to keep bleeding. Once again the Aggressive Corpses earned their wages, stripping blood from the Salubri, however this opened the door for Attila's Gangrel to finish the job. With the Salubri ousted, I suddenly faced a predator, that embodied everything I imagine Gangrel should be: relentless, resilient and perfectly happy solving problems with claws instead of negotiations. Unlike the Toreadors in the first round, Gangrel are remarkably unimpressed by zombies. Progress came slowly, one corpse at a time.

John, meanwhile, had learned from our earlier encounter. This time Diana always seemed to find exactly the combat end she needed, slipping away before my undead workforce could cause too much trouble. Then, with only five minutes left on the clock, something happened that I had never experienced before. John turned to me and politely asked whether I could allow him one final turn. Looking at the board, I realised I couldn't realistically oust him anyway. So I simply untapped, declined to take any actions and passed. On his turn, his political machine finally came together, ousting Edd and securing the victory point he needed. It was a lovely moment of sportsmanship and exactly the sort of interaction that makes VTES tournaments memorable.

When all the victory points were counted, Attila was crowned Scottish National Champion 2026. Congratulations! His Gangrel fought exactly as the clan should... with claws!

Looking back, I couldn't have asked for a better weekend. I met fantastic players, discovered cards I'd never seen before (including one delightfully annoying curse that jumps to another Methuselah whenever the Edge changes hands), and gained valuable experience piloting the Hecata. Helena's table presence alone was an education, while juggling ghosts, zombies, and my own triggers gave my brain quite the workout. The Hecata still need refining, but they are becoming exactly the sort of deck I hoped they would be. Hearing Norbert compliment my gameplay afterwards was simply the icing on the cake.

Before I finish, I have to mention one final highlight. During the first round I noticed that John and Norbert were playing on a beautiful playmat unlike anything I had ever seen. The colours were stunning, the artwork absolutely breathtaking. It turned out to be the playmat from last month's Irish National Championship. I spent almost as much time admiring that mat as I did counting blood counters. Just have a look at this beauty:

To whoever designed it: magnificent work. If these are ever produced again, please take my money immediately. And if any of you, dear readers, happen to own one and would be willing to part with it... you know where to find me (please do!).

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

Custodian Hargrave

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