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

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