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'Twas a dark and stormy night....

    The figure splashed through the puddles that lay deep accross the
alley. Neon flickered, reflected in the pools, distorting in the 
sheens of oil and muck. The man - Montague Blackwood the Third - would
have been out of breath, had he had cause to draw breath at any time 
in the last four years. His suit was spattered with mud, and his hair 
was dripping rain and sticking to his face, the care it had taken to 
arrange it that evening wasted. No.....he must have stopped the 
pursuit by now. Surely the bastard had better things to do. 
    Montague looked back down the alley, peering through the curtain 
of rain that fell heavy over Vancouver. He lit a cigarette and leaned
against a wall. Nothing. He was safe.
    "Who ya waitin' for, Monty?"
    The voice had a southern lilt to it...from Louisiana or Georgia. 
It was anything but friendly.
    Montague spun round. The fucker had found him. He stared up into 
the other man's face....broad but unremarkable. He loomed well, 
thought Montague, before dismissing the thought as irrelevant to his 
current predicament. How had the bastard caught him? his ferrari had 
given him a comfortable lead....
    "You're not making yourself popular you know Monty."
    And how dare he refer to his better in such a familiar fashion!
    "You've overstepped your boundries. Starting a fight in The 
Inferno was your first mistake. Starting it with a member of my clan 
was your second, and doing so in MY damned club, in front of all those
Kine, was your third. Tell me....do you have a fucking death wish or 
something?"
    Shadows had gathered around them. The big Cajun man seemed even 
more imposing. there was an evil glint behind the sunglasses. Montague
felt his will waver, and a cold sweat broke on his forehead. A dribble
of Vitae dripped off his temple. he didn't stand a...wait. He knew 
this game. Disciplines were being employed....well, two could play at 
that game....look into my eyes you idiot Brujah....
     The larger man winced momentarily then grinned. 
     "Trying to dominate me Monty? well...I make that your fourth down
and you've come up short by a long way. You know...I talked to our 
esteemed leader, and he reckons that you've caused more than your 
share of trouble over the last couple of years and you need teaching a
lesson. That was before tonight. Albert will be very interested in 
this. I had a word in the ear of your sire too. He's sick of your 
antics too. You've dissappointed him no end. In fact...he's giving up 
on you....your "sister" just made a breakthrough with the Setite
problem you were meant to be dealing with apparently. You're 
disposable."
     What was this? This couldn't be....
     "Sorry Monty, but for a major violation of the laws of the 
kindred of Vancouver, it is my duty to introduce you to this fine, 
hand-crafted piece of British Colombia pine."
     Montague looked down at the piece of wood that had sprouted 
suddenly from his chest...then up to the man in front of him....he 
felt his muscles start to stiffen as the piercing of his heart took 
effect....and knew that he was doomed.


Mark Lloyd : 8th generation Brujah, Sheriff of Vancouver

Mark is a character I have now played in several Vampire : the masquerade Chronicles. He's primarily a hit things type character, but that's what i had to make him, seeing as I wanted to play a former NFL player...those guys have a tendancy to be rather large and strong. I have tried my utmost to make him more than that, by making him at least slightly intelligent. He's now powerful beyond his meagre age in kindred terms, mostly due to his occupation in the world of kindred. Here I give his history and stats as they stand now, to be used as you see fit.

His Life

   Mark Raymond Lloyd was born on 26th January 1962, to a lower middle
class family. Mark's father was an astute man who knew full well he
would never be able to afford to send both his son and daughter - 
Mark's two year older sister Catherine - to college, so he encouraged
them at every oppurtunity to get good at a sport. Catherine was a 
natural in the pool, and gained a scholarship at Michigan university.
Mark developed a love for Football....he was big and fairly fast, and
just loved being allowed to hit people and push them around without 
getting in trouble for it. Mark played Middle Linebacker through
High School, and gained a scholarship too, though this one was closer
to the family's native New Orleans, being at Baton Rouge's Louisiana 
State University.
   Mark started every year for the tigers bar his freshman year, and
despite having a temper that boiled over on pitch on occasion, leading
to a couple of ejections from games, he was made a fourth round draft
choice of the Miami Dolphins in 1984, graduating as his late father had
with a degree in Acountancy and Economics.
   In Miami, Mark had an interesting career. Playing regularly and 
occasionally starting, but the years were punctuated by fines and penalties.
Mark gained a nickname from fans - "Wildside" - and every sack he took was
greeted with a playing of the Lou Reed song. Unfortunately, despite his 
reputation - both good and bad - growing, Mark's career was also full of 
recurrances of a knee injury he had sustained in his first training camp
with the team. He Eventually quit the dolphins when he blew his left 
anterior cruciate ligaments on the turf of Rich stadium, Buffalo.
   After the NFL, with a hefty pension, Mark founded and ran a small
accountancy in Miami. Two months into his venture he was approched by
a man named Cohen, who required someone to help found a new business,
and he thought Mark perfectly qualified. Mark listened to the man's talk,
and as the man finished outlining his proposal...a merger of some existing
groups, mark found himself dazed. Cohen grabbed him while he was stupified,
under the influence of the man's presence discipline, and embraced him.
   

His Unlife

   Mark awoke from the embrace to see Cohen sitting accross from him.
His initial feeling was one of rage, but he found he could not attack
his sire. Cohen had dominated him not too. He explained the reality 
behind his proposal...the merger of all the kindred of Miami under a
single ruling council, chairman and CEO himself. Mark had impressed him
with his refusal to back down to anyone - primarily referees - his
strength and dedication. Mark was one of several muscle men created as 
troops for the takeover, if the Ventrue were to object to the take over.
   Mark reluctantly agreed to this arrangement. Eventually, after much 
rhetoric from the clearly insane Cohen, the coup was staged, and failed.
During the riots incited by Cohen and a couple of other kindred who had
followed his lead, most of the new vampires were slaughtered. One night
of fire and blood left mark battered and bruised and on the run from the 
city that had been his home for four years. Knowing only one place else,
he went home to New Orleans.
   Cohen had taught Mark the Camarilla basics, so he knew to report to
the Prince of the city. The prince found him first, and had him brought
to his office. Mark was not punished for his part in the Miami fracas,
as it was revealed that he'd killed only a few oppurtunistic Sabbat.
As "Punishment" he was set to investigate a phenomenon of disappearing
kindred with a Giovanni investigator named Albert Rosen.
   Following their success in this Mark and Albert stayed together, 
realizing they worked well as a partnership. They took over Vancouver 
from the encumbant ventrue prince, Albert as new Prince and Mark as 
Primogen of the city's small Brujah contingent.
   This worked until Albert moved to Venice to sit with the Giovanni 
ruling 12. Mark was prince for one month before being run out of town.
He went to California, where he joined another free state in San 
Fransisco, where he helped cleanse a sabbat riddled Brujah clan. He
stayed as Primogen until the clan was back on it's feet then moved to
Venice, to work as a fist for the Giovanni. Venice proved a strange
place to exist, Mark and Albert briefly travelling with a Malkavian
who had broken the time barrier, during which time Mark committed Legal
Diablerie in Victorian London, and gained a ring from the Knights of
Silavanius, which masks the scars in his aura.
   Recently, Mark has been travelling with a misfit band of Gangrel for
the Giovanni, after one of their own gone Rogue. At the end of a chase
which took them around most of the globe, Mark decided to relocate with
Albert back to Vancouver, where he became Sheriff, guarding the laws he
helped draft.
   Mark has spent most of his Unlife a mercenary, and has acquiredf a
considerable amount of status, a long contact list, and a wide variety
of disciplines. He has had his abilities magically altered in a deadly
game of cards, has fought with many varied foes and been to places noone
should ever need to go. He is experienced beyond his mere ten years of
kindred life, having the power of an elder.

TO VIEW HIS STATISTICS

CLICK HERE