Los Angeles, California--

January 1982 - The cargo vessel, Pyranja, carrying archeological artifacts from a Greek excavation, en route to the US for carbon-dating and DNA analysis catches fie and sinks in Long Beach harbor. No incendiary device or accelerant is found. Many of the salt-water soaked artifacts are recovered except one very important one: a dried deformed corpse.

Tabloid newspapers reported with gritty photographs that the chamber containing the artifacts showed signs of being blasted or even torn open from the inside-out. Despite groups laying proud claim to the act of terrorism, the cause of the Pyranja arson is listed as “undetermined as are the fates of the 23 crewmen lost in the inferno for want of bodies for autopsy.

Fall of the Free
With the assassination of the first prince of Los Angeles, Don Sebastian of clan Toreador in the 1940’s, the Anarch Free States formed in the fires of popular discontent , and held all of Southern California against Sabbat crusades as well as against Camarilla attempts to retake the city. Jeremy McNeil alluded to an alliance with “Asian vampires.” a threat that held the Camarilla from further attempts to reclaim the lost land.

In 1999, the true “Asian vampires’ made themselves known to Los Angeles and the Cathayan incursions so devastated the Anarch gangs that Jeremy McNeil, the Anarch leader, humiliated and horrified, was forced to seek out the Camarilla for aid or face extinction of the Kindred of the Free States within an estimated year. In return for this support, the Camarilla was ceded West Los Angeles as a Prince’s domain to the Camarilla’s Brujah negotiator, William Kobin, operating on the authority of the Toreador Justicar, Madame Guil.
Certain financial and manpower resources to conduct the war against the Great Leap out of China were indluced int eh agreement with the Camarilla to which Anarchs cumulatively provided $2.2 million in return for “Senatorial” status, equal to the status of a Primogen, in the forming court to guarantee representation of the Anarch interests in the war effort as a sort of observer group. Only gang leader Muhamad Al Muthim refused to participate in this arrangement, saying eh would sooner die fighting than submit to such a contrived concession to future tyranny.

Rise of the King
Unfortunately, during the ensuing months, Kobin who suffered from intemperate disposition, left courtiers wondering if he was having a nervous breakdown or worse, perhaps his temper was a sign that he was tempting Wassail from the stress of such protracted warfare. His rages and frenzies were frequent; so much so, that after assaulting a court member in Elysium, breaking the Pax Vampirica (on his own part and on that of those involved in the ensuing brawl with protective Anarch representatives), it appeared the Domain would tear itself apart before it left its infancy.

In April of 2000, Madame Guil recalled the former Archon, Kobin, back to Venice, seeking a locally respected replacement for the domain leadership. Henri Belliard, Toreador primogen of San Francisco prior to Prince Van Nuys, was granted Right of Praxis over the new domain with the blessing of the justicar. Many Anarchs saw him as a Prince who would respect the arrangement and deal equitably with the neighboring Anarch Barons, while fighting savagely against the Cathayans who had so destroyed his former home. Politics aside, he had the same score to settle.

In the year that followed, the bloodshed and destruction between the Anarch-Camarilla Coalition and the Cathayans was devastating; the loss of finances and shock troops was relatively equal on both sides. The standoff was anything but a “cold war” with the factions standing at full alert for what appeared would be indefinitely. Between rattling combat and Masquerade cover-ups, Los Angeles was racking up a huge cost in mortal death, poverty, misery and fear in an inopportune economy.

Quickening the Dragon
Meanwhile, the Sabbat had been fighting a much grittier battle against the Cathayans to the south. Traditional efforts against the invaders had done them little good against a foe they did not understand and against whom they were grossly outgunned. Muthim, a Lasombra infiltrator had cut ties with the Anarch world for hear his cover would be soon blown and had nearly bankrupted his 30 years worth of reserves to finance the ongoing battle. In one last ditch effort through Bishop Cicatriz, he recruited packs from Tijuana and set out with his Bishopric to lead a war party against the Cathayans, once and for all.

On a bridge overlooking Dodger Stadium, they drew a line in the concrete. In what was to be the Final Crusade of Los Angeles they lost Muthim and 70% of their veteran numbers to the invaders. Licking their wounds they retreated to their Long each fall-back shelter, not knowing the extent of the enemy’s abilities. Morale fell to an all time low. Full evacuation was discussed.

In the slow sickening summer week that followed, the world of men and dead alike shook as a nuclear weapon detonated in India.

Every vampire on the globe was wracked with debilitating nightmares of horror and terror. And the Ravnos and Ravnos Antitribu went mad, many frenzying into the sun and their final deaths. In the northern sky, a new Red Star began to glow. The decimated Sabbat did not recover as quickly as did the Camarilla who saw no portent in these events. They soothed themselves with secular propaganda designed to keep Camarilla neonates from believing in Gehenna. As the days passed, word filtered in from across the globe, Ravnos had risen. Ravnos had fallen in the blast in India. Gehenna had come and the proud Sword of Caine could not defeat a foreign aggressor, much less an antediluvian. There was talk about migrating to Tijuana, when one voice rose above the murmur of defeatism, one quiet steadfast voice called them back from the brink.

From beyond the glow of their small fire in the dripping darkness of their Long Beach warehouse, the voice of Varázs rose; for she who was silent, the one who watched and was often away. She was easily forgotten as she had no pack to protect her, to watch over her. Most oddly, she was still alive. They recalled her at the bridge but they did not recall her in the flight from their certain death. From the depths of the grotto-like building she came, wrapped in nothing but an old canvas sail, followed by several unknown faces. Her soft hushed voice, thick with the vowels of the old country was like that of Lillith in the Land of Nod, a solace and an assurance from the unknown. The warm waters of her words washed over them like a tide:

“...’I flew into the Darkness, I saw no source of light, and I was afraid and alone. I was alone in the darkness and I grew hungry. I was alone in the Darkness and I grew cold. I was alone in the Darkness and I cried.’ Are you weeping for yourselves, by brothers? Are you cast out into the Lad of Nod as was our Father? Your tears are so bitter in your despair.

Know that our brother, Bishop Mohammad gave up his life in this battle to give us a great gift, as have all our lost brothers before him. He has given us the heart of the enemy. He was our leader, and so he shone like a beacon that led the way to promise before going out. But, do not defeat yourselves at the very hour his sacrifice bring us so close to victory. I chare you not into battle, my sweet brothers. I do not recriminate you for your losses. No. this night I bring you the tidings of victory and the word from afar. Know. My beloved brethren, that Gehenna is in abeyance. One of the Antediluvian number has fallen in the East. This is not a sign of the end, but a portent of our great future. And yet, even this Ancient stood against these Asian invaders and was strong as a mountain in one of their greatest strongholds. All of their mightiest could not fall this ancient one. These Cathayans, are much weaker than they appear. And that was his gift we share this night. We know now they are weak now, we know how they die best. Even so, the Ancient has fallen and as it has fallen, so shall the others; we know our destiny.”

Her voice had risen and rattled like a loud drum against the walls of the warehouse by the port, round and commanding. The crestfallen and terse gathering drew back from her fervor and some were struck with bloody tears. Those who came with her shone in the firelight like hungry animals in the slips, in a firelight that turned and burned a bright blue.

“But now my brothers ...I do not come here to send you against the enemy for your wounds are too great. Your hearts are too heavy. No, I now come to offer you a second Gift. And if you accept this Gift, I will ask you to make me your Bishop and to remain here with us. I shall give you alight in the darkness, as did our brother Muthim before me. To this end, I swear I shall anoint myself in the ashes of Muthim on the place of his passing and we shall walk arm-in-arm through the stronghold of the Invaders! I shall lay them low and by this sign, you will know that our hour is at hand and our Covenant has not failed.”

The gathering murmured amongst themselves, some with outrage, some with doubt and some with panic. “Agree! And I shall show you wonders,” she said. One Ductus, pulled himself up form his dirty seat and agreed. He was a weary hardened soldier of the Jyhad, but the air itself, alive with the dancing blue glow gave Caine’s words new power to life hit heard, and he felt there was nothing more to be lost. Hope bloomed. Others agreed with his, as he was the strongest among them and a wise priest in his own day. His consent would be theirs as well. ‘Then meet our brethren from afar, who come to our aid,” she said waving forward these new vampires in her company, “I hafff vvvorrk to dooooo...”

Her words twisted in strangely in her mouth as she dropped her meager covering to the silt covered floor. Across her white belly she drew one long claw deep through her flesh. But from the gash, filthy guts did not pour out; rather, it disgorged a large barbed elbow followed by multi-fingered claws, more limbs and the top of a horse-headed snout. The flesh of the original woman, dangled on the back of the forming beast’s back like a knapsack, and began to thin, blacken and turn into something membranous as the rest of the tusked head of the Zuolo erupted in a gush of ichor from her disappearing midsection.

It was as if she was turning wrong-side out as a horror from the darkest Tzimisce’s fantasy arose to its full 9-foot height. It’s mouth erupted in a roar as the dragon quickened. It’s wings stretched a dark canopy over the huddled mass as it reared once more, turned and was gone into the darkness.
Leaving her savage-eye companions by the fire, the night passed quietly as the new Sabbat made themselves at home and brought what news they had of their travels here from afar. The blossom of brotherhood burned in them once more, warm as the now red licking flames. They renewed themselves in the Rite of the Vaulderie and waited.

Two nights later, Varázs returned and bade them follow her to China Town, or else send a witness with her. Though they had pledged themselves, there were not yet shed of their weariness and so sent only five of their number with her; one from each pack and into China Town they walked. This had been the Los Angeles fortress for the Cathayans and a lick would not survive a mil sprint through its streets. But tonight, they ambled through the streets and alleys, arm-in-arm, true to her word and not an eye fell on them that seemed to care that they were there. No one challenged their road. At Muthim’s bridge she accepted their pledge to make her Bishop. She had been true to her promise and they were to theirs.

In the late months of 2003, even the Camarilla began to take note that their Cathayan enemy had grown silent. So too, they had endured report after report of spiritual activity in Los Angeles that had grown violent and frequent. One of the Ventrue of Belliard’s courtiers had been slaughtered by such a malevolent ghostly presence while his coterie mate watched helplessly. Belliard paid the Giovanni for assistance and alerted the Tremere. The matter was investigated immediately with a fervor born of competitiveness between the two clans, as well as a deep curiosity. The spirits were restless and waves of hostile displaced wraiths swirled from a central locus: China Town, or so the Giovanni said, growing pale with concern themselves. The Tremere report was even graver, for they had the ear of diverse mystics in the area. Driven by Giovanni reports the sent a team to investigate, risking the borders of China Town itself.

There, they watched for months as the Cathayans were driven from the area over an over, sometimes for a few days at a time and as long as a week. They returned in fewer numbers each time. But more concerning, were the vast and violent waves of mystic energy from an unknown source that surged forth from the core of the district in ripples to the far edges of the basin.

Further, local snitches indicated something brewing in the southern most part of the county. Word from farther out indicated that Sabbat were reportedly migrating to California, in small groups, some said they came from overseas as well. Something has stirred them up, something was horribly wrong on several fronts, so Belliard was told by contacts as far eastward as New York, and it was coming south, toward Los Angeles.

In small secreted rooms scattered across the north American continent, concerned coteries and leaders whisper fresh plans to investigate, to stop a new nightmare, to carve out glories of their own or slay a dragon while an angry Red Star looks down up on them.

:: See a current Map of the Los Angeles Undead Control Patterns ::

At closing night of Festivo, Bishop Varázs is elevated to Archbishop of Long Beach by Carinal Murat. Meet the Archbishop's pack, Dãgon's Creed ::

:: See Timeline of Major Events in the World of Darkness ::