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Immortal Desires Detritus's GURPS World of Darkness PbP game.

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Old 09-23-2009, 05:21 AM
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Default Rosalyn Quinnell (Kal's interim PC)

Rosalyn Quinnell, 6th Generation Toreador, 350 points

Age - 898
Apparent Age - 15
Appearance -
Sire - Gwynnis

Attributes [165]
ST - 8 [-15]
DX - 16 [80]
IQ - 16 [80]
HT - 12/8 [20]

Max Pool/Rate - 32/6
Humanity - 14
Basic Speed - 7.00
Move - 7

Dodge - 7
Parry - 13 (staff), 8 (broadsword)

Swing -
Thrust -

Advantages [240]
Vampire Package [65]
Appearance: Very Beautiful [25]
Generation: 6th [100]
Charisma 2 [10]
Humanity 16 [20]
Weapon Master (Spear) [20]

Disadvantages [-306]
Absentmindedness: Immobilized by beauty [-10]
Amnesia (Partial) [-10]
Blood Bonded (Gwynnis) [-40]
Combat Paralysis [-15]
Enemy (Sidana and friends, -30 point base, almost always (15-) appears) [-90]
Flashbacks (Total immersion) [-15]
Reduced Hit Points -4 [-20]
Terminally Ill [-100]
Youth (Age 15) [-6]

Quirks [-5]
Has below-waist-length red hair [-1]
Claims to have fey blood [-1]
[-1]
[-1]
[-1]

Skills [52]
Acting (M/A) - 16 [2]
Bard (M/A) - 18 [2]
Broadsword (P/A) - 16 [4]
Diplomacy (M/H) - 15 [2]
Heraldry (M/A) - 15 [1]
History (M/H) - 15 [2]
Katana (P/A) - 14 [0]
Languages (English, French, German) (M/A) - 16 [6]
Musical Instrument (Harp) (M/H) - 16 [4]
Politics (M/A) - 17 [4]
Savoir-Faire (M/E) - 16 [1]
Spear (P/A) - 20 [24]
Spear Throwing (P/E) - 20 [0] (skill derived from Spear skill + Spear Master advantage)
Staff (P/A) - 18 [0]
Welsh (M/A) - 16 [0]

Disciplines [202]
Auspex 5 [10]
* Enhanced Senses - 17 [1]
* Aura Reading - 16 [1]
* The Spirit's Touch - 15 [1]
* Unveil the Shrouded Mind - 14 [1]
* Psychic Projection - 13 [1]

Celerity 5 [48]

Dominate 3 [12]
* Command the Wearied Mind - 14 [1]
* Mesmerize - 13 [1]
* The Forgetful Mind - 12 [1]

Fortitude 4 [48]

Obfuscate 3 [12]
* Cloak of Shadows - 14 [1]
* Unseen Presence - 13 [1]
* Mask of 1,000 Faces - 12 [1]

Potence 4 [48]

Presence 5 [10]
* Awe - 17 [1]
* Dread Gaze - 16 [1]
* Entrancement - 15 [1]
* Summoning - 14 [1]
* Majesty - 13 [1]
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Last edited by Detritus; 06-04-2010 at 02:02 AM. Reason: Made some adjustments to Rosalyn's build.
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Old 09-23-2009, 06:21 AM
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Some notes on Rosalyn:

In her mortal days, she was a princess, and daughter of an upstart claimant to a throne in 12th-century Wales. The rightful ruler managed to capture Rosalyn and her brother, and the king managed to convince/pressure her to marry him in order to stop the fighting between their peoples. Her brother decided to her murder her once he learned of the arrangement, and Gwynnis basically swooped in the night before her wedding and Embraced Rosalyn, then took her place to be "murdered" at the altar, using Obfuscate to alter her appearance to what the mortals attending the ceremony expected to see.

She is the eldest of Gwynnis's childer, five centuries and change older than Anneke. She had two stints on the Primogen Council of Paris that lasted approximately a century apiece. The first ran from the mid-16th to mid-17th centuries, and the second with the rise of Napoleon I to the start of World War 1. She also ruled in Marseilles from the end of WWI until she fled the country just before the Nazis took Paris. She was Prince of Boston while the Toreador held ascendancy over the Tremere and Ventrue in the 1960s and early 1970s.

In 1983, she became one of Gwynnis's Archons. She was sent to Detroit after the Sabbat incited/took advantage of rioting in the city as a result of the Tigers' 1984 World Series victory. The Camarilla were forcefully expelled a couple weeks later on Devil's Night, and Rosalyn/Sidana fell that night, presumably destroyed by the Sabbat but not so much in truth.
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Old 09-30-2009, 10:15 PM
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Rosalyn and augmenting disciplines:

Since Rosalyn is of lower generation than 8th, she has access to the elder-level augmenting disciplines using the alternate rules that everyone can use at lower levels. She can go all the way up to Celerity 9, and up to Potence 7 and/or Fortitude 7. These are her costs and benefits:

Celerity
Celerity 6: +3.0 Basic Speed, +15 Move, +2 attacks/turn, duration = 2 hours, cost = 12 Fatigue (or equivalent)
Celerity 7: +3.5 Basic Speed, +20 Move, +3 attacks/turn, duration = 1 hour, cost = 14 Fatigue (or equivalent)
Celerity 8: +4.0 Basic Speed, +25 Move, +3 attacks/turn, duration = 30 minutes, cost = 16 Fatigue (or equivalent)
Celerity 9: +4.5 Basic Speed, +30 Move, +3 attacks/turn, duration = 10 minutes, cost = 18 Fatigue (or equivalent)

Rosalyn may also active the Celerity 4 bonuses (+2.0 Basic Speed, +6 Move, +2 attacks/turn) with duration of "until dawn" for 12 Fatigue or equivalent.

Fortitude/Potence
Level 5: +10 DR or ST, duration = 1 hour, cost = 10 Fatigue (or equivalent)
Level 6: +15 DR or ST, duration = 30 minutes, cost = 12 Fatigue (or equivalent)
Level 7: +25 DR or ST, duration = 10 minutes, cost = 14 Fatigue (or equivalent)

Rosalyn can be quite the little dynamo, if she can manage to enter the fray without freezing up first.
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Old 10-16-2009, 12:13 AM
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Since I'm thinking about it now, some notes about the weapon Rosalyn will eventually be wielding. As Sarah suggested, the Powers That Be will be able to convert Jocelin's katana into the form of a spear. These properties will be common to both sword and spear, going forward:

* +1 weapon

* By spending 1 Blood Point, you can make the weapon's damage aggravated for one turn, and also receive a +1d bonus to damage during that turn.

These things only apply to the spear's point, not its haft.

Rosalyn also will remember that Sidana's spear has even greater capacity for augmentation, and also has the returning property, which Rosalyn's spear will lack.

If Jocelin is restored, she'll have a magic katana with the same bonuses/abilities as Rosalyn's spear.
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Old 02-26-2010, 05:36 AM
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Here's a picture I made for Rosalyn. The hair in this portrait is considerably shorter than I had in mind for Rosalyn, but we can roll with the picture as-is:

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Old 03-02-2010, 07:00 PM
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In case anyone else is wondering, the model is Alyson Hannigan.
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Old 03-16-2010, 05:25 AM
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I'm going to be revising and expanding Sidana's history. These will be things that Rosalyn learns while trying to recover some semblance of her alter-ego's memories. There may also be a vignette or two if I can find the time to write them down, one of Sidana's first kill, another of a meeting with Gwynnis in Paris of the 1630s, towards the end of Sidana's first tenure as the Toreador Primogen of Paris. Additionally, I've definitely decided that she's had fairly long stints as Prince in both London and Paris, and it was Sidana who technically gave Gwynnis permission to embrace Bonnie in 1939, at the tail end of her reign in Paris, before the Nazis came calling.

Since I'm on a portrait-making kick, here are portraits of Sidana's two childer:

The Nightingale (Embraced circa 1700 in London):



The Dancing Monk (Embraced in the early 1970s in Boston):

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Old 03-17-2010, 03:25 PM
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Default Sidana's first kill, part 1 of 2

You awaken on a pallet in a candlelit room. You're cold; the pallet must not have been quite thick enough to completely insulate you from the wintertime chill of the floor. You hear singing, a faint monkish chant, and decide after a few phrases that it must be one of the Compline antiphons for the Twelfth Night service. That would place you in a private chapel adjacent to the main altar of the cathedral. A dim memory of becoming faint during the rehearsal for your wedding tomorrow surfaces.

Rousing yourself from the pallet, you sit up to see a fair-haired woman standing across the room, gazing raptly at you. A flush of pleasure rises within you, as it often does when you realize that you're the subject of such adoration. It happened frequently with the fair-haired woman.

That was one of the reasons why among all the duchess's ladies-in-waiting that she was your favorite. When you had made your preference known, the duchess graciously permitted her to be your personal attendant, your nighttime confidante. You had had trouble sleeping ever since your capture, but no matter how late you stayed up, she had stayed with you, commiserating, sympathizing, giving advice on how to be both woman and queen. Her advice had been at least as good as the duchess's. Better, if you were forced to choose a preference.

A smile, part camaraderie, part curiosity, forms on your lips.

"Gwen?" The fair-haired woman starts at hearing her name. A sheepish grin appears on her face for a moment, but she recovers her poise by the time she replies.

"How are you feeling, Majesty?"

"Hungry. And no wonder, if it's so late."

"I'll arrange for a meal." But she does not do so immediately, choosing instead to linger. A vague unease settles upon you, though you can't say why. Something in Gwen's aspect has changed, yet it's as elusive as the source of your discomfort. Then the meaning of the words coming from the main altar impresses itself on you. This was no Twelfth Night liturgy, or even one of the Octave of Epiphany, but a New Year's service!

"What day is it?"

"As your own ears have no doubt told you, Majesty, it is New Year's night."

"Nine days! I've been lying on a pallet in the cathedral for nine days! Is this how you take care of me? Is this some sort of monstrous joke?"

"I give you my word, Majesty, that I have taken care of you far better than you realize at present."

"But I was to be wed before the Feast of Epiphany. And Llewell will be frantic with worry! Where is he?"

"Your brother is nearby, of that you may rest assured. And you are correct, he will be frantic, but not for the reason you believe."

"What does that mean? I command you, stop speaking in riddles!"

"I believe Llewell is about to give his explanation," Gwen says, giving no sign of obeying your command. The wrath of the offended princess surges up in you, but then the door opens. Llewell walks in, his eyes strangely distant, and he does not regain his focus until after he closes the door and stands at Gwen's side. He rounds on you, rage contorting his features and tautening every line in his body, and seems to take no notice of the woman by his side.

"What madness is this?" he says through clenched teeth, his voice low and deadly. "I slew you with my own hand. Witchcraft, witchcraft!"

"What are you saying, Llewell? I have only been sick. Do you not recognize your own sister? You would never harm me."

"Better that you be dead than wed to the Haldane," he says, his voice rising, and he produces a dagger from somewhere in the folds of his clothing. A terrified squeak escapes from your throat, and you back away from your brother until you're against the far wall of the chapel. You reflexively make a warding off motion with your hands as Llewell begins his purposeful approach towards you, and Gwen intervenes at just that moment, seizing Llewell by his upraised arm, halting his advance.

"I see it did not take long for the Haldane to corrupt you," your brother says. At no time during his efforts to free his arm does he ever seem to notice that Gwen is restraining him. "I had hoped to spare you any of that, but I will ensure that it is kept to a minimum, for the salvation of your immortal soul."

You give Gwen a bewildered look, but she simply quirks an eyebrow in response, and then times her release of Llewell to coincide with one of his jerking efforts to break free. Seeing the murderous intent in his advance, a powerful self-preservation instinct asserts itself, impelling you to charge your brother. Mustering an inhuman burst of speed from you know not where, you easily take him by surprise.
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Old 03-17-2010, 03:28 PM
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Default Sidana's first kill, part 2 of 2

As you near Llewell, the heat of his body brings your hunger to the forefront of your consciousness. You lunge for his throat and, without knowing how or why, extend your canines. When your teeth sink into the flesh of your brother's neck, your being is suffused with rapture. The need to drink becomes overpowering, and you draw his life's blood into you, reveling in its warmth in your mouth and throat, the taste sweeter than anything your royal palate had ever experienced before.

Your brother's struggles subside as you continue to drink, and his arms fall weakly around you. Even in the throes of your ecstasy, you're aware of something impinging on your awareness, guiding you to turn just so with Llewell. You hear quiet words from a masculine voice, but cannot parse their meaning.

"No problem, Brother," you manage to make of Gwen's reply, "simply a joyous reunion of siblings." Without interrupting your feeding, you sense the monk withdrawing, the door quietly closing after he's left the room. Within moments after the interloper's departure, you drop the lifeless husk of your brother in shock.

"What have I done? Llewell?" You tear your eyes from your brother's corpse and turn towards Gwen. "What am I?"

"We are immortal, and cannot be destroyed except by very specific means. We derive sustenance from the blood of other creatures. Any blood will do, but that of humans is the most potent, and enjoyable. You are a fampir, and have been since I made you one on the evening of your wedding rehearsal."

"What?! That's impossible, superstitious nonsense. And even if it were possible, I am a woman of good conscience, and the succor of my Lord and Savior would protect me from any malign influence."

"The White Christ cannot prevent this transformation, I fear."

"The White Christ? Those are the words of a pagan idolator. Yet we are in a cathedral," you say almost to yourself. "Where are we?"

"The cathedral is Saint Michael's, on the grounds of Glastonbury Abbey." Gwen studies you as if expecting a particular reaction, but your thoughts are bent on trying to ground the situation in something familiar, however feeble the attempt.

"Well south of Gwynedd. That won't matter. My betrothed, my family, they will search for me, and they will not stop until I am found."

"My dear girl, your betrothed believes both you and your brother and dead. You, slain at the marriage altar by your brother's hand, him, hanged for treason and regicide, by the order of your betrothed himself. Others died in your places, of course, but no one believes there is any need to look at all."

Your mind reels as you try and fail to come to grips with all that Gwen has revealed to you. "You will be missed," you say faintly, somehow already knowing that Gwen has an answer to this objection.

"I'm afraid poor Gwen wandered off in the confusion, delirious with grief after learning that her beloved charge had been murdered by her brother. Her throat slit, and at the altar, no less!" A look of mock scandal appears on Gwen's face for a moment. "The searches ended days ago." Sympathy replaces her sardonic expression before she continues, and you recognize the tone of her voice from many of your late-night talks.

"If it will help your passage into your new existence, know that your fate was sealed as soon as Llewell learned of your acquiescence to the Haldane's marriage proposal. He feigned his own acceptance of the situation, but I knew in his heart, in his mind, that he planned to appear tame until the moment when all involved would be the least on their guard."

"The wedding," you say faintly, the nausea of comprehending an unpleasant truth beginning to take hold of you. "How was it that you alone knew of this?"

"Those of our ilk can develop capabilities that far outstrip those of mortal ken. Great speed, enhanced perception both mundane and psychic, magnification of the royal hauteur, these are the gifts that come most easily to our bloodline. You exhibited some of those traits just now, I believe, and there are others that we may learn as well."

You go over your fatal encounter with Llewell, how you surprised him despite his warrior's training, and your lack of same, how you knew to turn to conceal your feeding, and realize the truth of Gwen's words. Then you recall the ease with which Gwen had restrained Llewell, how he never seemed to notice her presence even when she held him, and know that Gwen must have the mastery of some of these additional abilities.

"I want to learn. You'll teach me." Gwen smiles at the self-assuredness of your demand.

"That would be the royal hauteur showing itself, right on schedule. You will learn, my childe, but there are some matters we must attend to before your lessons begin," Gwen says, and her eyes flick downwards towards Llewell's corpse. Your brow furrows in consternation at being addressed as 'child,' but the thought passes quickly once you follow Gwen's gaze to the floor.

Looking down at your brother, lying in repose, body turned in such a way to hide the puncture wounds that must be on his neck, you're struck by how peaceful, how beautiful, he looks, now that the cares of this world are no longer his. You will do nothing but admire the perfection of his form in your new lot in life, you decide. A glowing sword enters your field of vision, interrupting your reverie, and you start at seeing Gwen holding the sword in one hand, and a black-hafted spear in the other.

"This phase of your existence is no more, save in memory," Gwen says, lowering the sword until it touches Llewell's body. As soon as contact is made, supernal flame consumes both flesh and clothing until nothing, not even dust, remains. You take a wary step away from that fearful blade.

"Who are you?" You feel a touch of chagrin at your inability to mask the awe, the fear, in your question.

"I'm Gwen, as you already know. Something else you'll learn," she says, vaguely waving both sword and spear, the latter of which she offers to you. "Take it."

Taking the spear in your hands, you hold it awkwardly, having not the faintest idea how to use it.

"We'll work on that, but first, there's someone else we must meet with. Follow me closely, don't call attention to yourself, just behave as if everything were normal, as if walking around with a spear in the cathedral is the most natural thing to do." You feel a subtle intrusion in your mind, and somehow know that you'll obey the odd instructions.

"Where are we going?"

"Not very far, just a few doors down, to the Lady Chapel. I am but the lesser of your benefactors, and we must meet with the greater before your education can proceed."

Though her answer makes little sense to you, Gwen cuts your chance to think about it short as she makes her way for the door, compelling you to follow.
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Old 03-18-2010, 07:43 PM
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Default Sidana's timeline, part 1 of 2

900 years is a long-ass time. I'm splitting the outline of Sidana's history as Kindred into two parts, partly because I have to decide how much to include of her interactions with other Kindred from the 17th century onwards.

* Sidana's Embrace, and the scene of her first kill, occur in January of 1124.

* Gwen and Sidana dwell at Glastonbury Abbey for about a decade after Sidana's Embrace before relocating to London, which at the time Gwen still refers to as "Londinium." Sidana first meets Meerlinda around 1135.

* Gwen and Sidana leave London for Paris for the final third of the 12th century. Banding together with a small group of mostly (but not exclusively) Toreador Kindred, including Gwen's brood mate, François Villón, you work to bring Paris to its Medieval prominence during the 13th and 14th centuries. Meerlinda establishes the Paris Chantry after the completion of the Notre Dame de Paris cathedral in the mid-14th century.

* It is during this time when Sidana first hones her spearcraft, most often in skirmishes with the Garou as the Kindred went about taming the countryside immediately surrounding Paris. In this time, you also come to consider yourself at least as much French as English.

* The culmination of this shift in attitude occurs when Sidana, in the guise of an uneducated peasant girl, leads French armies to numerous victories over the English in the late 1420s.

* In 1430-31, Sidana repeatedly befuddles her captors as they question her after her capture and ransom. She survives by feeding on a string of confessors sent to her during her captivity, a diet occasionally supplemented by inattentive guards or too attentive fellow prisoners. Gwen rescues Sidana the night before her scheduled execution, with her replacement being burned at the stake after her escape.

* By 1500, shortly after the formation of the Camarilla, François Villón is firmly established as the first Prince of Paris. Gwen, now styling herself as Gwynnis, is the first Toreador Primogen of Paris. Sidana informally becomes known as Queen of the Harpies, and due to the prominence of the Toreador in Paris, becomes more powerful than any individual Primogen in the city besides Gwynnis herself.

* Sidana becomes Toreador Primogen of Paris in 1568, succeeding Gwynnis after her resignation following Queen Elizabeth's imprisonment of Mary, Queen of Scots.

* Sidana answers a Summons from Gwynnis, then Prince of London for a decade, in the summer of 1588. Upon her arrival, Gwynnis and Meerlinda explain their plan to help protect England from the imminent Spanish invasion, which they believe to be a plot backed by the Sabbat.

* On August 1 of the same year, Sidana strikes down Gwynnis atop Glastonbury Tor, sending her sire to torpor at the culmination of a powerful Thaumaturgical protective ritual. Meerlinda leads the circle of Tremere, comprised of the entire London Chantry, including Meerlinda's childe, John Dee, and augmented by members of the Paris, Amsterdam, Brussels, and Dublin Chantries. Among the supplemental members of the circle is Elaine de Calinot, a second member of the Tremere Council of Seven, familiar to both Sidana and Gwynnis from the decades in which all three resided in Paris.

* The Tremere disperse after the ritual, with the London Chantry all returning to their home city. A forlorn Sidana returns neither to London or Paris, instead retiring to Cardiff. In the weeks following the ritual, Meerlinda raises mighty storms from London as the Spanish Armada approaches the northern coast of Ireland, destroying about half the vessels that survived the engagement with Sir Francis Drake at Gravelines.

* Meerlinda comes to Cardiff after the Spanish threat subsides. Sidana harbors a great deal of resentment and bitterness towards the Councilor at first, prompting Meerlinda to reveal the depth of her relationship with Gwynnis, whom she still refers to as Gwen. The Councilor eventually persuades Sidana to return to Paris.

* Sidana's influence in Paris diminishes somewhat in her several-months-long absence, but by the turn of the 17th century she has reestablished herself as the second-most-powerful Kindred in the city, surpassing Councilor de Calinot and behind only Prince Villón himself.
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