The back story to this is quite simple both in-game and out. Our roleplay club had effectively disbanded due to school that we hired the room from refusing to renew our hire which is sort of what you get when you run a ’satanic cult group’ on a Tuesday night in a Roman Catholic high school. Most of us ended up running games on a Saturday night at the organisers house and one night after a 12 hour shift at my work I arrived expecting to carry on where our D&D campaign left off and instead had to learn a whole new system and draw up a character in 10 minutes flat. In the end this actually worked well for the character though.

Michael Jones was your usual college computer geek who one night got caught dumpster diving for passwords by the wrong person. One Brujah bite later and there as another vampire on the streets of Chicago. Having almost no real friends anyway and being almost nocturnal Mick didn’t find being a blood sucker much of a change but without ever seeing his sire again he had a lot to learn about being a vamp. He was always relying on his skills rather than his newfound abilities to get by and one night when I couldnt turn up for the game someone stood in for me and played the character as he was on paper. Mick basically blew his way through most of the hard men in Chicago that night.

Eventually he got in with a group of powerful Gangrel and after a years worth of gaming Mick somehow found himself in the position of Prince of Detroit. It wasn’t to last very long however. One night Mick was ‘entertaining’ the local gangrel as well as the rest of the party at a local rock club when things got out of hand. The DJ wouldn’t play a song for one of the gangrel and before we knew it the DJ was in a bloody mess on the floor with his throat ripped out. Mick had always been one to follow a crowd rather than lead and without thinking he joined in the with what was to become a massacre at the club. What nobody realised though was that as Mick had only been a Prince for a month or so and was only just getting in to the swing of things the Justicar for the region was keeping a close eye on matters. That night every last gangrel in the city met their final death and as dawn arrived Mick found himself tied to the roof of his home waiting to burn. His only hope of survival was was to blood bond himself to the Justicar which he took just as the sun started to burn his feet.

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