Nosferatu (noss-fur-AH-too)

Wow, you haven't flinched for almost two minutes. I must get prettier when you want something.

Vampire the Requiem - Core Rulebook
The Nosferatu are stealthy, strong and terrifying. Their very presence unnerves people, whether by physical ugliness, foul stench or nebulous personal malignance.
Studies of Nosferatu legend suggest that the clan is relatively young, possibly originating not too long before the rise of Rome, and possibly among the peoples it conquered. Certainly, the Nosferatu were active among the clans of the Camarilla, but proof of their presence before then is spotty at best. And yet, claims occasionally surface about very old Kindred who, if not Nosferatu, are strikingly like the Nosferatu. Whether these vampires are indeed members of the same clan, are Kindred of some “proto-clan” that became the Nosferatu, or are entirely unrelated can only be guessed at.
Legends of the nosferatu are historically heaviest in central Europe, particularly in Germany, northern Italy and eastern France. Early records describing what seem to be broods of Nosferatu also originate in modern Poland, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria and Greece, with some indication of presence in north Africa as well. Like the Gangrel, Nosferatu tend to either seek out territories before or after most of Kindred culture bothers with them. Unlike the Gangrel, though, the Nosferatu adapt relatively quickly to the presence of other vampires, relying on their monstrous nature to make a place for them in the society of the Damned.

Not all curses are created equal, and even the Damned have outcasts. These are the Nosferatu, the most overtly disturbing of the undead. Only sometimes able to pass as human, the Haunts are horribly warped by the Embrace, either physically or… otherwise. They dwell in shadows that other vampires would not dare. Even other undead fear the Nosferatu, for their unsettling seemings are constant reminders that those Kindred who look mortal are not. They grudgingly respect the Nosferatu as well. These blighted creatures have incredible powers of stealth, terrifying strength, and they embody the monstrous destructive force that every one of the Damned can muster if pushed too far. If they had their druthers, most other clans would prefer never to associate with the Nosferatu at all, yet the Haunts’ inarguable talents and brute force make them too dangerous to ignore. So other Kindred offer them a tense hospitality, hide their unease behind wary diplomacies and pray that the Nosferatu leave as soon as possible.
Many Nosferatu conceal their loneliness and resentment behind masks of indifference. They scoff in turn at those who recoil from them, belittling pretty vampires with soirées and silly political games, all the while seething at their exclusion. This isolation has fostered strong familial bonds among the Nosferatu. To those outside their ranks, they put on a unified front, creating the impression of a single extended network. The truth, of course, is that Nosferatu squabble and compete with one another as much as members of any other clan — but when faced with an outside threat, they close ranks.
The Nosferatu’s inability to blend in with society forces them to dwell apart, often congregating in places others shun. Some find sanctuary in the sewers, using influence with mortal government and construction, as well as their own substantial strength, to expand simple maintenance tunnels and sluiceways into vast underground warrens. Others lurk in cemeteries, sharing aboveground crypts with sedentary occupants. Still others prefer abandoned homes, often giving rise to neighborhood urban legends of haunted houses, or exist in the basements or boiler rooms of modern office buildings. Tradition holds that any Nosferatu is welcome in any warren until she provides her brethren reason to expel her. The Haunts might not all get along, but they recognize their common bond — not that they have any choice, since it follows their aspect like a miasma.
Feared by and therefore ostracized from society, many Nosferatu become as alien as their demeanor. Others choose the opposite path, becoming surprisingly cultured, well mannered and well spoken to compensate for their unnerving seeming. The latter are the Haunts most frequently found playing politics with other Kindred. The Nosferatu are also known as purveyors of information. Not only do their supernatural powers make them foes to be reckoned with, but many elder Nosferatu are keepers of ancient lore, rivaling anything preserved by the Ventrue or Mekhet. Sophisticated Haunts trade knowledge the way other Kindred trade favors, and if a Nosferatu doesn’t know something, he can probably scare someone who does into telling him. It is this trade in terror, more than anything else, that makes the Nosferatu too valuable — and too dangerous — to ignore. After all, one never knows what the horrid Haunts tell one’s enemies, or how many of them wait in ambush.

Culture

Culture and cultural heritage

Nosferatu normally choose progeny from among society’s castoffs, such as the homeless, the mentally ill and criminals. Many Nosferatu Embrace out of spite, using the curse to punish vanity, cruelty or other such “sins.” Assuming a sire wants a childe to survive — which isn’t always the case — Haunts tend to choose self-reliant individuals who might actually be able to manage their new condition. Few Nosferatu Embrace out of love or affection, though even this is not unheard of. Rare but heartbreaking are the tales of a Nosferatu determined to “gift” his love with the Requiem, only to find himself the object of his beloved’s loathing when she learns what’s been done to her.

Common Dress code

Appearance: No two Nosferatu have exactly the same air, though troubling characteristics often follow patterns within “families.” Discolored leathery skin, gaping maws, rubbery skin, misshapen heads, odors like grave earth, bulging eyes, queasy stares and personal habits, gnarled hands, ineffable feelings of dread, sagging flesh — all these and more are the hallmarks of the clan. Not every Haunt is physically deformed. Indeed, many are not, instead discomfiting those who look upon them with indescribable unease. The darkness and filth in which many Nosferatu dwell make their foul miens (and fouler odors) even worse.

Art & Architecture

Havens

Most Nosferatu dwell in places far from mortals, such as abandoned warehouses, graveyards, basements and of course the ever-popular sewers and subway tunnels. That said, some few Nosferatu choose to flout tradition and take their havens in penthouses, fantastic manors — anyplace where they can enjoy the luxuries of wealth yet still count on substantial privacy.

Common Customs, traditions and rituals

Nomads

An monster’s existence is nothing new to the terrible Nosferatu, whose dreadful mien isolates them from much of Kindred society. Indeed, there are domains where the Nosferatu are feared to the point of exclusion, sanctioned like infidels by Princes or powerful covenants. As some histories tell it, the Nosferatu were the first Kindred nomads, marauding from place to place like unholy terrors, striking fear and then moving on to blight other locales.
As a result, many Nosferatu take up a nomad’s existence because it’s all they’ve ever known. Plucked from the side of the highway or from a city’s slums by a roving sire, these Kindred are taught from their first nights that a city or town is no place for creatures such as they. So they follow in their sire’s footsteps, sometimes literally, wandering wherever their malice takes them and collecting knowledge along the way. Although typically loners, these ramblers will fall in with a road coterie from time to time, whether for protection or simply to ease the loneliness of their journey for a while.
Some Nosferatu take to the road because they simply have no other choice. Others are driven from their city lairs by fearful mortal (or Kindred…) mobs and take Haven in the wilderness. Still others are chased out by their own monstrous clanmates. Though the Haunts share a common bond and a strong sense of community, sometimes there simply isn’t enough prey or enough space to go around. The Nosferatu have enough trouble from night to night without having to compete with one another as well.
The Nosferatu stereotype lurks in the darkness, hiding his face from the sun (even more than other Kindred) and terrorizing mortal and Kindred interlopers foolish enough to trespass in his domain. The same Disciplines that let the Nosferatu skulk in or unnerve the residents of a domain, however, can let them thrive between cities as well.
Most obviously, there’s Obfuscate, useful for moving unseen in strange locales. If a Haunt approaches a Kindred without the Predator’s Taint, the townie just might dismiss him as a local Nosferatu — after all, when they all make even the Kindred’s skin crawl, the society of the Damned has a tendency to lump them all together.
Obfuscate, then, mitigates the perils of the Predator’s Taint and helps avoid the aggression of local Kindred even when they aren’t goaded by instinct. It’s also a great boon to feeding, particularly if combined with Vigor. The prowling drifter hides himself, decks some unfortunate, feeds on him and maybe jacks his wallet and car keys as a bonus. The victim wakes up with a bloody nose and a broken jaw and, if he’s a pint low, well, that just makes sense, doesn’t it?
Vigor’s obvious uses — smackdown-style feeding, putting some fear in aggressive locals, inflicting a king-hell beating on someone who deserves it — pale in comparison to its less dramatic but equally important functions in the night-to-night experience of a roving Nosferatu. Need to change a tire on a stolen ride, but the bolts are rusted solid? Crúac isn’t going to fix it. Can’t be bothered to pick the padlock on that condemned pump house? Pick it with your fists! When cobbling together makeshift sun-shelter, it’s quite useful to be able to easily handle steel plate while less-brawny Kindred have to fool around with tinfoil and spray paint.
Vigor can also help with that second perennial item on the nomad shopping list: money. Whether earned by winning unlikely arm-wrestling bets in a roadhouse, ripping the front off an ATM or stacking cargo for payment under the table, Vigor can transfer itself into cash more readily than Protean (for example) and with fewer post-Discipline cleanup hassles than Majesty or low-level Dominate.
Finally, there’s Nightmare. Barely initiated vampires think the Nosferatu use Nightmare as a combat technique, adding a psychological battlefield on top of the physical one. That’s even true as far as it goes. Smart Nosferatu uses Nightmare as a substitute for a fight, though, not a weapon in it. Dread is by far the easiest way to clear out any mortals who come snooping around at night — it’s clean, too. Even Kindred can be buffaloed with Dread, and few among the status-conscious undead are willing to admit they broke off their investigation because the old abandoned amusement park “felt creepy.”
Even the lowest power, Monstrous Countenance, can be useful for feeding if applied properly. While something that makes mortals go away at top speed might seem like a poor hunting tool, it’s very useful for the vampire with companions waiting around the corner. He just has to scare tonight’s meal toward where his pals lie in ambush, confident that the mortals aren’t going to do anything unexpectedly smart — like call the cops or light a torch or stay the hell out of the haunted house’s basement.
Nosferatu Ramblers
Pure clan coteries are rare on the highways, but all-Nosferatu cliques are more common than others. Partially it’s because some Haunts cling to the idea that everyone else is scared of them and they can only trust each other, but usually that sort of freak-unity crap won’t cut it on the highway. Instead, all- Haunt gangs stick together because their abilities work well in a group, instead of producing redundancies.
The most obvious deficit of an all-Haunt group is social manipulation powers. With their unsettling social characteristics, they’re very unlikely to find docile human food sources. The Haunt-gang is more likely to rely on stealth and remorselessness to get what they need — a trio of Nosferatu with Obfuscate can survive for a long time by picking off truckstop hookers and leaving their bodies somewhere you can only reach with Vigor or a cherry-picker. This tends to erode Humanity pretty fast, but then, so does having a gaping maw full of distended teeth or the odor of a moldy grave.
On the other hand, some Nosferatu coteries feast like kings through strategic and long-term use of Nightmare. While Dominate is good for specific obedience, and Majesty can yield short-term helpfulness, nothing really motivates human beings like mortal terror.
Here’s one strategy, perfected by an apocryphal coterie called “the Harrowers.” The group comes to a close-knit community, preferably small, preferably isolated. They spend a night or two getting their bearings. Then they start scaring people — a little Dread here, a Monstrous Countenance through the window there or just the basic spooky boojum shit that’s pretty easy when you’re a hideously strong, scary, possibly invisible monster.
Over the course of a couple more nights, they ratchet up the tension. Eventually, they make their desires known to the townsfolk. (The first time, the Harrowers stole small but precious items and then spelled out the word “SACRIFICE” in the dirt at the local hanging crossroads.) Either the people send out a few outcast loners to propitiate the unknowable awfulness or the coterie has an excuse to go on a murderous rampage.
Either way, the next time they show up — in five years or 10; 20 years is probably too long — the townsfolk know what’s expected and where. The Harrowers kept this up so long that it became part of the culture in those lonely moor settlements — the people just knew that every 10 years they needed to leave five human beings at Devil’s Fork, Coffin Rock, the Midnight Altar or whichever ominous landscape feature was handy. The beauty was, the mortals cleaned it up themselves. Anyone who made waves was likely to be the next sacrifice. By making the people cave in and help them with their evil, the Harrowers made them complicit — and ashamed enough to hide the events.
The Harrowers were reportedly doing this stuff as early as the 1820s. It’s trickier tonight, what with hard-headed scientific rationalists around, but it’s not impossible. There are always outposts of backward and superstitious people, inside cities and out. The truly scary part is that communities with a history of this type of victimization tend to become tightly knit, with low crime and strong proactive ethics. After all, they have worse than snubbing to face if they piss off the neighbors….
Ramblers and Clan Relations
The common wisdom is that Nosferatu look out for each other because no one else will (just like Daeva trash each other because no one else will). This is not universally true, but it’s true often enough that a lazy Haunt can be taken by surprise when the stereotype fails. Generally speaking, a road Haunt who approaches his settled clanmates can expect one of three reactions. He can be welcomed, tolerated or outright rejected.
An open-arms welcome in which the locals share their herds and offer the stranger a place to spend the daylight hours is not terribly common, but it does happen. The clan likes to stay informed and travelers often come bearing tales: What better way to convince him to share than by making him feel welcome and comfortable? Unfortunately, the Nosferatu groups most eager to greet wanderers seem to be those who have the worst relationships with other factions or covenants in the area, so their largesse is hardly selfless. They may not state it outright, but the wanderer is seen as a commodity, an advantage that just fell in their lap. Maybe they just want news or to send a message down the line. Maybe they openly ask his help against their “local oppressors.” Or maybe they want a disposable stooge who can be tricked into doing something any local would know is deathly perilous.
Tolerance is a more common attitude. The townie Haunts aren’t necessarily going to stake him out for the sun, rat him out to the Sheriff or sell him out to whatever covenant’s in power, but neither are they going to lend him a rock-solid Haven and steer expendable mortals down his throat. If he’s got relevant information (or merchandise) to trade, they haggle with less bitterness than a Ventrue could expect. In short, he’s treated as an equal, and if they don’t hug him to their collective bosom, it’s probably because they fear or respect him too much to feign affection.
Rarely, a region’s Nosferatu are exclusionary to the point of Paranoia. There can be any number of reasons for this — the local leader is a charismatic delusionary who has wrapped his followers in his own Anxiety, their relations with the local power structure are so bad that over-reaction is a survival trait, or they’re just plain scared shitless of each other. Maybe they got burned really badly the last time a Haunt rover asked for a place to spend the day. Regardless of the reason, an alarmist Nosferatu clutch is bad, bad news for a wandering Haunt because the traveler is likely to be taken off guard. It’s not just a matter of blithely expecting a welcome — most drifters are too smart for that. The Haunts are masters of concealment, though; if they pretend to set out a nice welcome, their expert ambush is likely to take any but the most alert Kindred by surprise.
Nosferatu in Road Coteries
In the road coterie, the Nosferatu often finds himself in one of three roles, the ones to which his Disciplines best suit him.
News Hound
The Mekhet may be the best at infiltration, but a Nosferatu with a strong command of Obfuscate can sometimes learn more in less time when scouting out a new area. Not only are they capable of concealing themselves with their power, the Haunts find that people are often willing to tell them what they want to know, so long as they can get the hell away afterward. Further, if there are other Nosferatu in the area, a nomad Haunt can take advantage of their hospitality and learn a great deal about the lay of the land without ever leaving the dubious safety of the local Haunts’ warren.
Guardian
Another important job for drifters is protecting their Haven, especially since temporary residences are usually much less secure than a permanent home. Guarding is a job for which every Nosferatu Discipline is handy. Obfuscate allows the guard to check out the competition before deciding whether to flee, fight or scare them off with Nightmare. If his comrades have left him alone while they hunt, he may be able to simply sit out the incursion and give an informative report when they return. Or if he does decide to sneak up on an intruder and pop him one or scare the living daylights out of him… well, it doesn’t take a genius to work Vigor or Nightmare into that situation.
Muscle
Hey, sometimes you just need to knock heads. While generally second to the Daeva in the grievous bodily harm department, the Nosferatu have a well-earned reputation for competent violence. If they have a chance to prepare, they may be more competent than the Daeva, since the Haunt can find a nice hiding place from which to pounce — and that’s even before his terrifying countenance takes the starch out of the opposition.

Major organizations

The Nosferatu have little formal organization, but as stated previously they do tend to band together in the face of outside threats. The clan is almost tribal, with differing “families” of Nosferatu often sticking together or warring against one another. Clan hierarchy, such as it is, is usually determined by a combination of seniority and actual merit.

Covenant

The Nosferatu are everywhere. The Invictus nervously welcomes them as enforcers, informants and soldiers. Those Nosferatu who obtain power in the First Estate tend to extremes; becoming relatively benevolent rulers, remembering what it was like to be downtrodden, or attempting to make up for the anguish they suffered by heaping it upon others. Haunts who seek to understand why God has done this to them, and those penitents who feel that they must atone for whatever sins drew the curse upon them, find solace in the ranks of The Lancea Sanctum. Haunts often find a place among The Ordo Dracul, where their disturbing bearing has little immediate effect on their achievements in the covenant (and might even aid them, as it discourages casual social calls). The Carthians appeal to those who are concerned with constructing a society in which everyone, no matter how unsettling, has a voice. Those Nosferatu who truly suffer beneath the weight of their curse often find the redemptive teachings of The Circle of the Crone far too tempting to resist. Even the unbound attract those who accept their terrifying nature and who want to tear down the system that quakes at their passing — or those who just want to get away.

Coteries

Disturbing and disturbed as they are, the Nosferatu are beloved by none. Physically and mentally unsettling, the Nosferatu are frequently hounded from vampire society not by violence, but by the nigh-palpable fear of the other clans. Many Kindred would be perfectly content to see the Haunts destroyed down to the last neonate. Only their often-useful skills at stealth and terror earn them a place in Elysium at all. And while they are useful, they are not appreciated. Other clans are happy to avoid them when they can, so, in the absence of others of their kind, the Nosferatu frequently find themselves forced into the role of loners. That said, the Disciplines of the Nosferatu make the Haunts a force to be reckoned with. Their penchant for lurking in shadows and preying on other’s fear makes them dangerous, especially when they’re working in concert. While one Haunt can be disruptive, an entire coterie of them can bring its enemies to their knees.
Nosferatu coteries suffer from some significant deficits as well. Socially, the Nosferatu are at a disadvantage. They might work well together, but Kindred would rather not deal with them at all — even Kindred of their own clan in many cases, as causing fear grants no immunity to fear. Many Kindred remember the terror inflicted on them by Nosferatu in the past and actively avoid all Haunts. If a Nosferatu coterie is going to work for other Kindred, at least one member needs to have enough social finesse to approach other vampires for business purposes. A coterie of Haunts might find that using a mortal Retainer works wonders. The Kindred themselves might not have the best social skills, but if they hire (or subject to the Vinculum) someone who is charming, they might find their fortunes improving rapidly. Alternatively, having at least one member in the group emphasize Social Attributes and Skills helps the group considerably. A coterie of Nosferatu can benefit from sharing a Haven. There are places the Nosferatu go that other Kindred are much less likely to find, and a group of Nosferatu who combine Haven dots can wind up being quite safe indeed.
The Disciplines of the Nosferatu don’t facilitate group action. Just because two Haunts are allied, for example, doesn’t let them see through each other’s Obfuscate to know where the other is. Likewise, some powers of Nightmare are as likely to affect Allies as enemies.
The more common types of Nosferatu coteries include:
Brute Squad/Assassins
The Nosferatu are terrifying, even to other Kindred. Haunts are capable of lurking unseen in ambuscades or even taking the appearance of trusted friends and suddenly turning their fearsome strength on their targets without hesitation or mercy. A coterie of bitter Nosferatu might find that selling its violent services to the highest bidder is a rewarding channel for its members’ hostilities. Some such coteries are reluctant to send other Kindred to Final Death. Others have no such compunction. The difference between a pack of violent thugs and a pack of killers, after all, is one wellplaced blow, and a coterie operating on one side of that line can find itself operating on the other almost without thinking. Coteries that willfully and repeatedly kill for pay are doubtless among the most coldhearted vampires around. If the pack opts to align itself with the Kindred power structure, it can easily fill the roles of the Prince’s Hounds. If, on the other hand, it sells its services to the highest bidder, it could wind up changing the power structure.
The Frighteners
While the Nosferatu are always unsettling, a group of them working in concert to brandish a hammer of fear against its enemies is terrifying. A coterie of Haunts focusing on the Nightmare Discipline is truly formidable. Nightmare is one of those Disciplines that can be wielded by a coterie with much greater effect than an individual. Even Dread, which is hard to use when the coterie members are in close proximity, can be used to create a sort of “wall of Dread” if the Nosferatu fan out to drive their targets away or channel them toward a specific destination. A coterie of Nosferatu can cause riots or human stampedes with strategic uses of Nightmare and Obfuscate, and the same tactics applied against Kindred foes can bring vampire society to its knees. Even vampires who think they shouldn’t be afraid of a coterie of such Haunts suffer the effects of Nightmare when it’s laid on by several Nosferatu.
Traders of Rare Antiquities
Secrets aren’t always intangible things passed from lips to ear. Some are unmistakably solid. A handful of Nosferatu coteries specialize in finding old, lost objets de puissance and selling them to the highest bidder. Part archeologist, part lore master and part elite art dealer, each member of such coteries specializes in finding, transporting and discretely brokering the sale of such items. These sorts of coteries like to portray themselves as genteel businessmen in the presence of other Kindred — or at least around potential buyers — but the fact of the matter is that obtaining many such items (such as the Spear of Longinus, splinters of the one true cross, seals warding against various ancient demons or weapons of the great vampire nobles of old) places these coteries in extreme peril on a regular basis. Many coteries of this type have become infamous among Kindred for doing business with mortals, mortal mages and even the occasional desperate Lupine. They sell to anyone who can meet their outrageous price, though what they ask in exchange for their wares is rarely monetary. (The asking price for the artifacts they peddle would be astronomical anyway.) Some coteries ask for extensive information about individuals or places, or for vast amounts of mortal influence. Others ask for extended periods of gracious hospitality, and some ask only for favors to be named later. Caveat emptor.
Rebels
There’s only so much a vampire can take from the arrogant, condescending, petty, pushy and obnoxious Kindred at the top of the heap before he snaps. Coteries of this type comprise those Nosferatu who have had enough and have decided to actively work together against the Kindred power structure in their city. Such coteries can be lethal, and they are greatly feared. As the Kindred who lurk in the background, Nosferatu know the whereabouts of every Haven, every back-up Haven and every emergency safe house in the city. They can gain access to the building plans and skulk near the secret entrances and exits of those places. Such coteries merrily wreak havoc on a Kindred power structure that they feel has screwed them over.
As a general rule, this sort of coterie is both rare and short lived. Few Princes are willing to allow such chaos to run rampant in their domains for long, and if a blood hunt doesn’t suffice to bring down these insurgents, meeting their demands will. Use of these tactics will bring the full weight of the power structure down, probably upon all Nosferatu in a city, and a coterie that rebels in this way too often or for frivolous reasons might find itself quietly targeted for Final Death by other Haunts.
Nickname: Haunts Character Creation: Physical and Mental Attributes are more useful to most Haunts than Social. Nosferatu frequently make use of Skills such as Stealth and Survival. It’s unwise to begin with too high a Blood Potency; until a Nosferatu has obtained some experience in the Requiem, he might be forced to rely on animal blood. Although Nosferatu aren’t social creatures, certain Social Merits such as Contacts can be useful for gaining information from inaccessible areas.
Favored Attributes: Composure or Strength
Clan Disciplines: Nightmare, Obfuscate, Vigor
Weakness: All Nosferatu are repulsive or at the very least uncomfortable to be around. The cause need not be a physical Deformity. A palpable aura of menace, a charnel odor or the undeniable manner of a predator is just as compelling as a twisted body. With regard to dice pools based on Presence or Manipulation Attributes in social situations, the 10-again rule does not apply. Additionally, any 1’s that come up on a roll are subtracted from successes. (This latter part of the weakness does not affect dramaticfailure rules.) This weakness does not apply to dice pools that involve the Intimidation Skill, or to the Composure Attribute.
Example: The Nosferatu Scratch attempts to smooth-talk his way past a ghoul standing guard at a nightclub door. Scratch has a Presence of 4 and a Persuasion of 2 — his player rolls six dice and comes up with 1, 5, 6, 8, 9 and 10. The net result is two successes: The 1 cancels the 8, the 9 counts as normal, and the 10 isn’t rolled again.
Concepts: Bogeyman, circus freak, crude sadist, guardian angel, leg-breaker, parvenu, petty thief, rat king, reclusive eccentric, snitch, sycophantic servant

Stereotypes

Daeva: Got themselves fooled into thinking they can fuck the pain away.
Gangrel: Just pat 'em on the head, pretend you're grateful, and whatever you do, don't call 'em on their idiocy. You may be a creep, but your face looks better on the front of your head than hanging from some animal's claws.
Mekhet: Moths are drawn to the flame just like shadows. Do shadows burn, too?
Ventrue: They want to play king of the mountain? Fine. Haven't seen one yet willing to come over here and enforce his "rule."
***
Lupines: Scarier than this? I sure fucking hope not.
Mages: They know something...I'm just not sure I want to know what it is.
Mortals: Yeah, it sucks having to hide from your food. Yeah, you could take any mortal out without thinking about it. When you can take out a few thousand of 'em, then come talk to me. Until then, keep your fucking head down.