Oberlochs
You’re either part of the family or you’re food. I know we ain’t kin, so where does that leave you?
Most vampires haunt cities, making the urban landscape their hunting grounds. Few are willing to dwell outside metropolitan areas. Not only are the dangers abroad unseen and untold, but the feeding is meager.
The vampires of the Oberloch bloodline purposefully choose to stay away from cities and suburban sprawls. This choice is made partly out of ignorance (only a few Oberloch kin are even aware that other vampires exist, let alone in cities), but it’s also a strategic choice. The “Brood” opts to spend the Requiem in towns far from city lights, existing only in small burgs and hamlets many miles from any highway. They’re selfmade rulers of these places, for such rural towns provide wide-open territory and self-contained fiefdoms.
The Oberlochs began as a bloodline in the most literal of senses, as an actual mortal family. The human clan, running a successful coal-mining company in Pennsylvania, grew wealthy on the blood and suffering of immigrant laborers. The workers had their revenge in 1869, forming a mob and murdering some of the family after dragging members down into the mines. The rioters, shepherded into fury by a Gangrel vampire, unknowingly left a few Oberlochs clinging to life. The Savage decided to “test” the family’s survival skills by Embracing the survivors. He didn’t stay around to shepherd his childer through those first nights. Left with little understanding of the curse levied upon them, the remaining family were forced to endure.
And they did. The undead clan not only grew, but its blood changed in subtle ways, deviating from that which created it. The vampiric Oberlochs continued to consider themselves a family. Indeed, they did so obsessively. They believed that the blood that sustained them, while technically dead, still carried their lineage, regardless of its bodily origin. They sired more “members of the family,” gathering runaways and castoffs, and brought those chosen mortals into the unliving fold of the Brood. By selecting miscreants and outcasts with cruel, tough demeanors, the bloodline grew slowly but constantly. The family couldn’t remain local, though. Wanderlust combined with growing numbers forced some from their original home and out to the dark corners of rural America. Now, the growing Oberloch family lives at the edges of civilization in small towns just far enough from big cities, watching private herds with a protective, ravenous eye.
The vampires of the Oberloch bloodline purposefully choose to stay away from cities and suburban sprawls. This choice is made partly out of ignorance (only a few Oberloch kin are even aware that other vampires exist, let alone in cities), but it’s also a strategic choice. The “Brood” opts to spend the Requiem in towns far from city lights, existing only in small burgs and hamlets many miles from any highway. They’re selfmade rulers of these places, for such rural towns provide wide-open territory and self-contained fiefdoms.
The Oberlochs began as a bloodline in the most literal of senses, as an actual mortal family. The human clan, running a successful coal-mining company in Pennsylvania, grew wealthy on the blood and suffering of immigrant laborers. The workers had their revenge in 1869, forming a mob and murdering some of the family after dragging members down into the mines. The rioters, shepherded into fury by a Gangrel vampire, unknowingly left a few Oberlochs clinging to life. The Savage decided to “test” the family’s survival skills by Embracing the survivors. He didn’t stay around to shepherd his childer through those first nights. Left with little understanding of the curse levied upon them, the remaining family were forced to endure.
And they did. The undead clan not only grew, but its blood changed in subtle ways, deviating from that which created it. The vampiric Oberlochs continued to consider themselves a family. Indeed, they did so obsessively. They believed that the blood that sustained them, while technically dead, still carried their lineage, regardless of its bodily origin. They sired more “members of the family,” gathering runaways and castoffs, and brought those chosen mortals into the unliving fold of the Brood. By selecting miscreants and outcasts with cruel, tough demeanors, the bloodline grew slowly but constantly. The family couldn’t remain local, though. Wanderlust combined with growing numbers forced some from their original home and out to the dark corners of rural America. Now, the growing Oberloch family lives at the edges of civilization in small towns just far enough from big cities, watching private herds with a protective, ravenous eye.
Culture
Culture and cultural heritage
Background: The family has no interest in growing bigger than its britches, so to speak. Embracing new kin is allowed only when approved by the Grandmother or Grandfather of a given territory. Each family member is expected to Embrace at least one other at some point in his Requiem, however. Fostering new children is the only way the family remains strong.
These vampires Embrace only those suitable to carry the Oberloch name. Candidacy typically requires an individual to be tough as nails, a true survivor. The Oberlochs also choose those with few connections to the wider world. In other words, so no friends, family or law enforcement comes knocking. Prospective childer are often town members (spinsters, hermits or single mothers) with few temporal connections. Yet, some of the Brood like to Embrace from those who come from outside of town, such as runaways, wayward vacationers or hitchhikers.
The Oberlochs verify the aptitude of a future family member through a variety of homespun tests. Such rites are often made up on the spot, but involve survival-based challenges. (A mortal may be kidnapped and left in the middle of a forest, for example, or be set on by a pack of starving dogs.)
And yet, conditions above ground were as bad as those below, but in this case the danger was to a man’s coffers. A miner in a given town was subject to the whims of his employer, a so-called “coal baron,” who owned and operated the company. Initially, pay for a miner was based on how much coal he was able to bring to the surface, and that compensation did little more than keep he and his family afloat. Coal barons realized, however, that their own families could gain far more if they exploited their workers even further.
Barons — already the owners of coal-town markets and stores — decided on a system of economy that bypassed the federal dollar. They established markers or “chits” that served as payment to miners. These chits were good only at marketplaces owned by the barons. And while chits were valued at roughly the same as a dollar, prices in stores were elevated unreasonably. Miners were paid the same, but in limited funds, and costs skyrocketed.
The Oberloch family, of Swiss-German descent, arrived in America in the early 1800s. While most immigrants who weren’t English or Welsh were relegated to gutter jobs (such as coal mining), the Oberlochs were fortunate enough to bring much of their family wealth with them. Within two decades, the family (changing its name to the more American “Overlock”) was owner of its own industry. In 1826, the A.A. Overlock & Brothers Mining Company was founded under coal baron Alfred Alexander Overlock and his wife Alice.
They stormed the Overlock mansion — the biggest on Millionaire’s Row — and kidnapped the family members. The mob, lead by a feral Ahern, dragged the Overlocks into the mines. The family men were beaten, cut, stabbed and dragged across jagged outcroppings of black rock. The women were raped. The children were whipped with axe handles. All were left for dead.
The eldest Overlock brothers, Gerard and Jacob, died from contusions to the skull. Alfred’s sister Katrina and son Theodore both died from multiple wounds. An elderly uncle, Konrad, suffered a fatal heart attack, although that didn’t stop the mob from breaking his body.
There were unexpected survivors, however. Patriarch Alfred lived, as did his wife, Alice. Their 14-year-old daughter, Sophie, also managed to survive. All barely clung to life and might have passed yet if not for the further intervention of Bartholomew Ahern. The vampire, surprised that the parasites could weather such horrific treatment, decided to visit the curse of the Requiem upon them. He thus expended a great deal of his own power to extend his vengeance on a permanent level. He left the remaining Overlocks, alone and starving, to their own devices and suffering.
The next 20 years passed in a hungry blur. The three vampires — only partly cognizant that they were blautsauger at all — stayed to the edges of existence, traveling from town to town and farm to farm. They fed on livestock or any unfortunate individual who stumbled too far from the mortal Herd. They stole clothing, slept in abandoned houses and kept to less-traveled roads. Few of the mortals they encountered were allowed to live. When they were, the family went by the old name Oberloch, to avoid being identified and to paint themselves as destitute immigrants.
Alice decided that sleeping in mud and dirt (or at best, in the husk of a burned-out barn) did not suit her clan. With that decision, she marched into the nearest town, a place called Harmony that boasted less than a 100 citizens. Now, like before, she saw the townsfolk for what they were — resources. Except now they were not beings who could be exploited for money. They were bags of fat and muscle who could be exploited for their blood, and with blood came strength. Alice found great delight in doing what she wanted, when she wanted; her family could exist like kings again. But she also saw the potential for even more freedom than before. Alice felt that her family was still human to a point, only without any need for morality or mortal law. She saw the town of Harmony as the first stop on the road to reclaiming her family’s wealth and power.
Alice felt revulsion at the notion. If her loved ones still aged, were they truly immortal? Or were their lives only extended, their days multiplied until an ineluctable death? The family couldn’t be allowed to suffer such a fate. Time could still destroy them, it seemed, and so she set them to breeding.
Of course, “breeding” involved the Embrace and bringing chosen humans into the fold. The first adopted Oberlochs were selected for their hardiness of body and cruelty of intention. Unfortunately, extending the family came with the unanticipated consequence of the clan growing too big for its tiny town. Food supply was limited, so Alice sent her new children away to make a “life” of their own a few towns over. She gave them the latitude to choose their own paths and set them off.
Since that night, the Oberlochs have carried on the family tradition, unknowingly honoring the decisions made by the Brood matriarch so many years ago. The family spreads to new towns, driven by wanderlust and that slow-burning need to procreate, and there it sets up shop. If blood runs dry or family gets bored, they move on. Over the years, some have considered going to the city where food would be more plentiful, but whispers of other creatures and a general disgust for all things urban have kept them to the backwater burgs of North America.
Qualification involves no one thing; initiation customs differ from town to town. For the most part, tests cultivate the tragic bond that can arise between battered wife and abusive husband, or hostage and hostage-taker. The family creates in the mortal a sense of “learned helplessness.” The Oberlochs strip everything from the victim: money, possessions, transportation, family, friends. The Brood assumes control of his resources or replaces them. In the case of money, the Oberlochs take it and offer to spend it sparingly on the victim’s needs (on food, for instance), provided he “stays put.” In the case of friends and family, the vampires attempt to subsume those roles. When the subject needs something, the family may indulge it — or may inflict violence. The mortal is deprogrammed through a cycle of intermittent reward and punishment. Months pass and the subject’s life becomes the property of the Brood. Provided he remains sufficiently debased, but strong enough to be worthy of the family name, he is Embraced.
Establishing bonds doesn’t end there, though. Family is the cornerstone of the bloodline. Members hold no actual love for one another (attempts at manifesting the emotion result in little more than funhouse mockery of the sentiment), but they do maintain powerful bonds of loyalty and protectiveness over those “of the blood.” It’s therefore critical to ensure that the newly inducted are faithful to flesh and blood. The family inflicts several tests of loyalty over the first few years of a neonate’s existence. Such tests are meant to reveal just how far a vampire is willing to go to fulfill the family’s greater good. Will she kill a puppy? A human child? An adult? Will she risk Final Death to obtain an old Oberloch heirloom or sepia-stained photograph? Family members are encouraged to come up with new tests and challenges on the fly, all in an effort to gauge a neonate’s fidelity. (Sometimes, these tests manifest as blood bonds with one another; some Oberlochs do mistakenly associate this supernatural devotion as some kind of twisted “love.”)
A neonate who fails a test is not cast aside or destroyed. After all, the family doesn’t bolster its ranks by senselessly punishing transgressions. Family is family and each member, young or old, deserves some latitude. Should enough tests (or one important one) fail, however, the transgressor is sure to be punished beyond the rational thresholds of education and pain. The same goes for any Oberloch of any age who attempts to betray the line’s heritage. Treachery against the Brood — which might be as simple as fleeing the family or cursing the Oberloch’s good name — is forgivable, provided the offender is duly punished and makes up for such duplicity. Serious betrayals (such as killing a Grandparent or calling down mortal authorities on the family) are met with a slow and arduous Final Death.
The Brood looks for a few key characteristics when attempting to stake its territorial claim in a new place. First, a town has to be self-contained. A tiny burg of 200 or so people usually does the trick, but some members have been known to settle down in towns populated by just under a thousand. Second, a town can’t be too close to urban civilization. Not only does such modernity make old Oberlochs uncomfortable, it doesn’t lend itself to the tried and true techniques of domination that the clan has established. Thus, a chosen town must be at least 10 miles from a major highway, and at least 50 miles from a major city. Places located between cities are ideal. Such locales can attract travelers who stray from the beaten path, and they make for good, untraceable blood sources. Oberlochs also select new members from the ranks of these wayward folks.
Most Brood members are completely ignorant of vampire society, so know nothing of The Traditions. And yet, the line upholds a loose version of the Masquerade. Such a rule has no name and no Oberloch is technibloodlines cally bound by it, but the experience of old family members makes it clear that lording too openly over humans is likely to get one beaten or destroyed. That said, the Oberlochs don’t hide, either. Mortals living in a town with these backwater monsters tend to sense that something is wrong, even if they don’t know what.
The family tells of a few towns — locations hidden far from cities in states such as Alaska, Colorado and Maine — where Oberlochs live openly as vampires, ruling human herds as a rancher does cattle. Such stories may be legend, but some Brood swear they’ve been to these promised lands.
As mentioned, neonates are put through sporadic examinations of loyalty, but that’s not to say they’re distrusted completely. New vampires of the blood — usually called “striplings” or “saplings” — are treated as if part of something far bigger than a normal, mortal existence. While they receive nothing that could be termed love or compassion, striplings do enjoy an occasional modicum of respect. They’re treated better than other mortals who wander into town, for example.
Such consideration is simply tempered with a dose of caution for new blood, as a newly Embraced member technically remains “undeclared” until her Blood Potency reaches 2. Until that time, the neonate is watched askance to make sure she doesn’t bolt for the hills. As the months and years pass, neonates are given longer leashes by their sires (or “parents”) in an effort to engender faith.
(Note that the Oberloch family does not allow other vampires to become part of the Brood. While a Gangrel can enter the family at Blood Potency 4, no Grandfather allows such a violation of familial trust. Other vampires are seen as weak-willed cousins at best. At worst, they’re perceived as diabolical outsiders worthy of a “burnin’ out back of the house.”)
The First Law often adorns signs posted on or around family property, sometimes scrawled in blood, paint or feces. Some rebuke such disgusting ways, instead making cross-stitched wall hangings or wooden carvings with the message front and center.
Despite the family’s auspicious and mannered origins, havens tend to run toward disheveled and disgusting. Some actually refer to these places as “horror houses” (as a point of pride). Over time, the places can become models of chaos and fear. Pictures are torn off walls, claw-foot bathtubs are stained with blood, human and animal carcasses are buried haphazardly in the yard. Some havens don’t maintain utilities (although wise members know to steal money from travelers or townsfolk, which can be used to pay power and water bills). Some may even have animals (feral cats, possum or bats) living in otherwise unoccupied rooms. Not all the Oberlochs exist like this, though. Young members tend to preserve a greater semblance of Humanity. It’s the older, stranger Brood who often reside this way, making lurid hell-houses out of once-stately manors. Moving in
When one or several Oberlochs move into a town and establish a new home, they apply a loose-but-effective strategy in “claiming” the area. The first move involves gaining control over a few prominent townsfolk. These could be deputies, reverends, ministers, teachers or clerks. The means of influencing such people varies. Clever newcomers dig up dirt on mortals, hoping to gain some kind of blackmail leverage. Bribery or threats also work. Some Oberlochs go so far as to kidnap a loved one, using the victim as a semi-permanent bargaining chip. Beyond that, other methods include use of Disciplines (specifically Dominate) or making targets into Ghouls. Only under extreme circumstances do Brood members Embrace significant townsfolk this early on.
From there, the Oberlochs choose their homestead for at least the initial stages of settlement. Some make this the first step, but many recognize the need to have a few “fish on the line” first. After all, taking over a house by murdering its occupants could attract local police. It helps to have one or several officers already under thumb.
A homestead provides a place to plot how to claim more of the town as a hunting ground. Is there a bus depot that brings in the occasional runaway? Does the police station have holding cells that might contain a few drunks who won’t be missed? Where do the bad kids, small-town criminals or hermits live? As the months go by, the Oberlochs scheme to take control of these areas. Of course, “control” is an ambiguous term. It could mean simply putting one of the family nearby to stalk such places and bring back food, or it could involve actively Dominating or ghouling appropriate parties to claim new turf.
Oberlochs may stay in a given town for six months or 60 years, depending on how secure the family’s hold is. Should the Brood feel that it’s losing control, it may move on. The family may also pack its bags for other reasons, such as if law enforcement threatens dominance, if other supernatural beings intrude, or if the accursed city encroaches upon rural existence. Any of these are reason enough to skip town. The world is full of meaningless little villages, each one practically bursting with unclaimed blood.
The Brood rarely chooses territory that’s already claimed, whether by blood kin, other vampires or other creatures. The clan prefers fruit that’s free for the picking. Too many conflicts from the get-go only serve to weaken the family unit. That’s not to say, however, that members don’t accidentally settle down in someone else’s backyard. The Oberlochs aren’t omniscient.
Members who go over the fence often make it one or two towns down the road, maybe getting as far as a couple counties away. The Brood doesn’t take to such treachery, and goes through Hell and high water to bring escapees back. The clan organizes what’s commonly called a “rabbit hunt.” Most times the escapee is found, corralled and returned, whether willingly or by force. The fugitive faces whatever justice the Grandmother or Grandfather deems appropriate. Punishment is usually harsh and torturous, but rarely involves destruction unless this isn’t the first or even second attempt. Under those circumstances, getting the offender to cut himself his own switch has obviously taught him nothing, and the next “switch” is driven into his heart.
A handful of the Brood has managed to escape completely. They find relative safety in cities. While a hunting party may attempt to track a “rabbit” into the urban press, hunters lose much of their power in the city. Not only are family members uncomfortable or ignorant about metropolitan areas, but their Allies there are few and far between.
Those rare Oberlochs who make it to the outside world of vampire society find it quite surprising. The sheer presence of a city may not be shocking (some individuals came from cities), but the existence and nature of other supernatural beings — especially other vampires — is often unforeseen. Leaving the relatively simple rules of the Brood behind means entering a realm with infinitely more complex social and political entanglements.
It’s important to note that any Oberloch character who goes to the city as a fugitive is ignorant of most of vampire society, and may run afoul of The Traditions. Resident Kindred who come across such a newcomer may try to learn more about this aberrant bloodline (and may be surprised to discover that the countryside harbors more of these back-road bloodsuckers). Or they could try to put the Oberloch to Final Death should the rube breach The Traditions too often or too blatantly.
This isolation translates into a general ignorance about other supernatural beings. Publicly, the family knows enough about Lupines (see below), very little about other vampires, and nothing about the existence of witches or wizards. Such ignorance is not applicable across the board, though.
While neonates almost certainly go dumb, old Oberlochs (some ancillae and the scarce few elders) know more than they’re willing to share. It’s inevitable that over a period of nearly two centuries some members have run into Kindred from other clans and covenants. While such run-ins Haven’t yielded a great deal of information, providing only a piecemeal understanding of vampiric existence outside the family, some Oberlochs at least realize that they’re not alone in their condition. Obviously, the bloodline’s progenitors (Old Alice, specifically) had awareness of other vampires, but none ever anticipated the scope of Kindred existence.
Some old family members have also had encounters with supposed witches. Most of these hypothetical snake charmers were just as isolated as the Oberlochs — women of the Jersey Pine Barrens capable of casting hexes, or Appalachian men who could tell the future by Throwing turkey bones and reading animal droppings. It is as yet uncertain if the lineage has ever encountered “real” mages.
No matter what, the Oberlochs keep the existence of other supernatural creatures hidden from most family. Elders find it useful to keep the majority in the dark, making the oldest the be all, end all of the unearthly world. This code of silence does, however, leave elders alone to speculate about the connection between them and the world’s denizens. Most are content to dismiss other Kindred as nothing more than inferior cousins, but some wonder if they themselves are the true aberrations.
It’s rumored that some of the Brood have kidnapped a few “city” vampires, and keep them contained in old root cellars to learn more about the deviant relatives. Since none have ever witnessed such outsiders, it’s hard to tell if such tall stories are just that, or if victims simply have yet to escape.
It has since been an implicit family directive to learn more about shapechangers. Specifically, how to kill the Godforsaken predators. Some family members aren’t quite experts on the subject of Lupines, but know more than most. The Brood asserts many “truths” that are actually homespun superstitions (the beasts are men who fornicated with the Devil, or that werewolves aren’t men at all, but vengeful spirits). One piece of Lupine lore that’s both superstitious and accurate is that these creatures can be harmed by Silver. (Indeed, the occasional Oberloch can be found in the cellar of his Haven, smelting the previous owner’s silverware down into weapons.) Curiously, many Oberlochs know more about werewolves than they do about other vampires.
Despite the family’s ancillary obsession with Lupines, they don’t care enough about the beasts to get too close. The Oberlochs have little interest in a bloody territory war. If there’s proof that werewolves are in an area and could potentially threaten a power base, the vampires are likely to pack their bags and get out of town. There’s no reason to tempt fate. After fleeing, the family may return a few weeks later to test the waters again. If found secure, they probably settle down. If the Lupines continue to loom, that town becomes more or less “dead” to the clan. Only a rare few Oberlochs have attempted to defend their territory against werewolves. The family can relate even fewer success stories.
These vampires Embrace only those suitable to carry the Oberloch name. Candidacy typically requires an individual to be tough as nails, a true survivor. The Oberlochs also choose those with few connections to the wider world. In other words, so no friends, family or law enforcement comes knocking. Prospective childer are often town members (spinsters, hermits or single mothers) with few temporal connections. Yet, some of the Brood like to Embrace from those who come from outside of town, such as runaways, wayward vacationers or hitchhikers.
The Oberlochs verify the aptitude of a future family member through a variety of homespun tests. Such rites are often made up on the spot, but involve survival-based challenges. (A mortal may be kidnapped and left in the middle of a forest, for example, or be set on by a pack of starving dogs.)
History
In the 19th century, coal mining was a reliable — and deadly — profession for men in places like Pennsylvania, Ohio and West Virginia. Miners (typically immigrants) were subject to constant risk while ferreting out anthracite coal deep in the earth. Mines could collapse, gases could suffocate or burn workers, and as if the chance for instantaneous death wasn’t enough, the long-term hazards of black lung made the career terminal. Thousands upon thousands died mining black-diamond veins, perishing from unmitigated dangers.And yet, conditions above ground were as bad as those below, but in this case the danger was to a man’s coffers. A miner in a given town was subject to the whims of his employer, a so-called “coal baron,” who owned and operated the company. Initially, pay for a miner was based on how much coal he was able to bring to the surface, and that compensation did little more than keep he and his family afloat. Coal barons realized, however, that their own families could gain far more if they exploited their workers even further.
Barons — already the owners of coal-town markets and stores — decided on a system of economy that bypassed the federal dollar. They established markers or “chits” that served as payment to miners. These chits were good only at marketplaces owned by the barons. And while chits were valued at roughly the same as a dollar, prices in stores were elevated unreasonably. Miners were paid the same, but in limited funds, and costs skyrocketed.
The Oberloch family, of Swiss-German descent, arrived in America in the early 1800s. While most immigrants who weren’t English or Welsh were relegated to gutter jobs (such as coal mining), the Oberlochs were fortunate enough to bring much of their family wealth with them. Within two decades, the family (changing its name to the more American “Overlock”) was owner of its own industry. In 1826, the A.A. Overlock & Brothers Mining Company was founded under coal baron Alfred Alexander Overlock and his wife Alice.
Blood and Black Dust
The immigrants — mostly Irish and some Polish — who worked for the Overlock family struggled to keep their own loved ones fed. The chit system destroyed their livelihoods above ground, while the hazardous conditions of the job murdered them below ground. Still, few immigrants entertained the idea of revolt. It meant a complete loss of income (and thus food and shelter). Meager earnings were better than none, and with an ever-growing population of migrants ready to replace the dead or dismissed, most miners settled into the futility of their situation. That is, until Bartholomew Ahern came along. Ahern, a Gangrel vampire, kept watch on his mortal family from the forests surrounding the Pennsylvania hills. He checked up on his mortal kin every few years, who had had come to work for the Overlock company, and their living conditions were deplorable. They were practically starving, and two brothers had died (along with 75 others) in a subterranean explosion. The Overlocks did nothing to compensate the families, and went so far as to fire the men who were only injured in the accident. Ahern recognized the greed and exploitation at work, and chose a path of brutal vengeance. Over a period of weeks, the Gangrel organized many of the émigré miners, stirring their emotions into a grim frenzy. Such agitation soon erupted and the workers revolted.They stormed the Overlock mansion — the biggest on Millionaire’s Row — and kidnapped the family members. The mob, lead by a feral Ahern, dragged the Overlocks into the mines. The family men were beaten, cut, stabbed and dragged across jagged outcroppings of black rock. The women were raped. The children were whipped with axe handles. All were left for dead.
The eldest Overlock brothers, Gerard and Jacob, died from contusions to the skull. Alfred’s sister Katrina and son Theodore both died from multiple wounds. An elderly uncle, Konrad, suffered a fatal heart attack, although that didn’t stop the mob from breaking his body.
There were unexpected survivors, however. Patriarch Alfred lived, as did his wife, Alice. Their 14-year-old daughter, Sophie, also managed to survive. All barely clung to life and might have passed yet if not for the further intervention of Bartholomew Ahern. The vampire, surprised that the parasites could weather such horrific treatment, decided to visit the curse of the Requiem upon them. He thus expended a great deal of his own power to extend his vengeance on a permanent level. He left the remaining Overlocks, alone and starving, to their own devices and suffering.
Princes to Paupers
The three surviving family members were not shepherded into their condition. They were given no instruction, no clue as to what had befallen them. Left to their own survival, they learned lessons the hard way. No sunlight. Blood for food. Mad, unquenchable urges. They could not return home. After the revolt, the mansions of Millionaire’s Row were burned to the ground. No one would accept or help them. Seeing no other choice, they fled under the cover of night.The next 20 years passed in a hungry blur. The three vampires — only partly cognizant that they were blautsauger at all — stayed to the edges of existence, traveling from town to town and farm to farm. They fed on livestock or any unfortunate individual who stumbled too far from the mortal Herd. They stole clothing, slept in abandoned houses and kept to less-traveled roads. Few of the mortals they encountered were allowed to live. When they were, the family went by the old name Oberloch, to avoid being identified and to paint themselves as destitute immigrants.
Paupers to Predators
It was not patriarch Alfred who worried over his family’s condition. He seemed curiously content to remain at the margins of human existence, numbly feeding off pack animals and wayward victims. It was wife Alice who shook clear of her bloodthirsty fog after almost three decades. She began to see the truth of the family condition, recognizing just how far they had fallen. At that point she had some comprehension of their abilities and curse, and wondered if they could do more. Didn’t their curse afford them some benefit? They were once the royalty of a small but comfortable castle. Could become such again?Alice decided that sleeping in mud and dirt (or at best, in the husk of a burned-out barn) did not suit her clan. With that decision, she marched into the nearest town, a place called Harmony that boasted less than a 100 citizens. Now, like before, she saw the townsfolk for what they were — resources. Except now they were not beings who could be exploited for money. They were bags of fat and muscle who could be exploited for their blood, and with blood came strength. Alice found great delight in doing what she wanted, when she wanted; her family could exist like kings again. But she also saw the potential for even more freedom than before. Alice felt that her family was still human to a point, only without any need for morality or mortal law. She saw the town of Harmony as the first stop on the road to reclaiming her family’s wealth and power.
Family Legacy
After a couple decades spent in Harmony, Alice could see what was happening to her. She was growing old. The effect was barely noticeable to others, but the faint stench of entropy wafted from her flesh and bones. Her hair lost some of its luster. The skin around her eyes tightened.Alice felt revulsion at the notion. If her loved ones still aged, were they truly immortal? Or were their lives only extended, their days multiplied until an ineluctable death? The family couldn’t be allowed to suffer such a fate. Time could still destroy them, it seemed, and so she set them to breeding.
Of course, “breeding” involved the Embrace and bringing chosen humans into the fold. The first adopted Oberlochs were selected for their hardiness of body and cruelty of intention. Unfortunately, extending the family came with the unanticipated consequence of the clan growing too big for its tiny town. Food supply was limited, so Alice sent her new children away to make a “life” of their own a few towns over. She gave them the latitude to choose their own paths and set them off.
Since that night, the Oberlochs have carried on the family tradition, unknowingly honoring the decisions made by the Brood matriarch so many years ago. The family spreads to new towns, driven by wanderlust and that slow-burning need to procreate, and there it sets up shop. If blood runs dry or family gets bored, they move on. Over the years, some have considered going to the city where food would be more plentiful, but whispers of other creatures and a general disgust for all things urban have kept them to the backwater burgs of North America.
Society and Culture
The Oberlochs are unlike most other Kindred. The unique features and attitudes of the line keep its members isolated — both physically and socially — from other vampires. The Brood maintains its own tenets and traditions, many of which are detailed below.Ties That Bind
Oberloch vampires are obviously not family in the strict sense of the word. Vampires may not be able to breed biologically, but they do have the ability to create progeny by supernatural means. Any mortal found to be a candidate for membership is introduced to undeath. Prior to the Embrace, however, mortals are put through a grisly initiation.Qualification involves no one thing; initiation customs differ from town to town. For the most part, tests cultivate the tragic bond that can arise between battered wife and abusive husband, or hostage and hostage-taker. The family creates in the mortal a sense of “learned helplessness.” The Oberlochs strip everything from the victim: money, possessions, transportation, family, friends. The Brood assumes control of his resources or replaces them. In the case of money, the Oberlochs take it and offer to spend it sparingly on the victim’s needs (on food, for instance), provided he “stays put.” In the case of friends and family, the vampires attempt to subsume those roles. When the subject needs something, the family may indulge it — or may inflict violence. The mortal is deprogrammed through a cycle of intermittent reward and punishment. Months pass and the subject’s life becomes the property of the Brood. Provided he remains sufficiently debased, but strong enough to be worthy of the family name, he is Embraced.
Establishing bonds doesn’t end there, though. Family is the cornerstone of the bloodline. Members hold no actual love for one another (attempts at manifesting the emotion result in little more than funhouse mockery of the sentiment), but they do maintain powerful bonds of loyalty and protectiveness over those “of the blood.” It’s therefore critical to ensure that the newly inducted are faithful to flesh and blood. The family inflicts several tests of loyalty over the first few years of a neonate’s existence. Such tests are meant to reveal just how far a vampire is willing to go to fulfill the family’s greater good. Will she kill a puppy? A human child? An adult? Will she risk Final Death to obtain an old Oberloch heirloom or sepia-stained photograph? Family members are encouraged to come up with new tests and challenges on the fly, all in an effort to gauge a neonate’s fidelity. (Sometimes, these tests manifest as blood bonds with one another; some Oberlochs do mistakenly associate this supernatural devotion as some kind of twisted “love.”)
A neonate who fails a test is not cast aside or destroyed. After all, the family doesn’t bolster its ranks by senselessly punishing transgressions. Family is family and each member, young or old, deserves some latitude. Should enough tests (or one important one) fail, however, the transgressor is sure to be punished beyond the rational thresholds of education and pain. The same goes for any Oberloch of any age who attempts to betray the line’s heritage. Treachery against the Brood — which might be as simple as fleeing the family or cursing the Oberloch’s good name — is forgivable, provided the offender is duly punished and makes up for such duplicity. Serious betrayals (such as killing a Grandparent or calling down mortal authorities on the family) are met with a slow and arduous Final Death.
Small-Town Horror
The villages and hamlets of the world are largely unoccupied by Kindred. Most vampires flock to cities because they offer both anonymity and an unending supply of blood. The Oberlochs have little interest in traveling to cities. Not only are they filthy places, dens of the kind of corruption that corrodes family ties, but members see little reason to be the little fish in a big, stagnant pond. They’d far rather be the biggest — the only — predators in a given area, so they choose the small towns of America to settle down.The Brood looks for a few key characteristics when attempting to stake its territorial claim in a new place. First, a town has to be self-contained. A tiny burg of 200 or so people usually does the trick, but some members have been known to settle down in towns populated by just under a thousand. Second, a town can’t be too close to urban civilization. Not only does such modernity make old Oberlochs uncomfortable, it doesn’t lend itself to the tried and true techniques of domination that the clan has established. Thus, a chosen town must be at least 10 miles from a major highway, and at least 50 miles from a major city. Places located between cities are ideal. Such locales can attract travelers who stray from the beaten path, and they make for good, untraceable blood sources. Oberlochs also select new members from the ranks of these wayward folks.
Most Brood members are completely ignorant of vampire society, so know nothing of The Traditions. And yet, the line upholds a loose version of the Masquerade. Such a rule has no name and no Oberloch is technibloodlines cally bound by it, but the experience of old family members makes it clear that lording too openly over humans is likely to get one beaten or destroyed. That said, the Oberlochs don’t hide, either. Mortals living in a town with these backwater monsters tend to sense that something is wrong, even if they don’t know what.
The family tells of a few towns — locations hidden far from cities in states such as Alaska, Colorado and Maine — where Oberlochs live openly as vampires, ruling human herds as a rancher does cattle. Such stories may be legend, but some Brood swear they’ve been to these promised lands.
Generations
The bulk of the family far and wide consists of neonates and ancillae. It counts only two or three known elders, and few have ever encountered these Oberloch forebears.As mentioned, neonates are put through sporadic examinations of loyalty, but that’s not to say they’re distrusted completely. New vampires of the blood — usually called “striplings” or “saplings” — are treated as if part of something far bigger than a normal, mortal existence. While they receive nothing that could be termed love or compassion, striplings do enjoy an occasional modicum of respect. They’re treated better than other mortals who wander into town, for example.
Such consideration is simply tempered with a dose of caution for new blood, as a newly Embraced member technically remains “undeclared” until her Blood Potency reaches 2. Until that time, the neonate is watched askance to make sure she doesn’t bolt for the hills. As the months and years pass, neonates are given longer leashes by their sires (or “parents”) in an effort to engender faith.
(Note that the Oberloch family does not allow other vampires to become part of the Brood. While a Gangrel can enter the family at Blood Potency 4, no Grandfather allows such a violation of familial trust. Other vampires are seen as weak-willed cousins at best. At worst, they’re perceived as diabolical outsiders worthy of a “burnin’ out back of the house.”)
Duties and Traditions
The following is a brief list of potential obligations observed by many Oberlochs. This list is hardly exhaustive. Nor is it codified in any way. Any Brood in a given town may adhere to these customs as if they were handed down by God, or may ignore them altogether in favor of a different set of practices.- The oldest Oberloch in town is called Grandmother or Grandfather. His or her will supercedes the judgment of all other local family members.
- Those vampires below Grandmother/Grandfather who have sired childer are called father or mother.
- Neonates are allowed to Embrace another when their Requiem has reached 10 years. At that point, they gain what is typically referred to as “breeding rights.” An Oberloch may sire only one childe every 10 years (and are, in fact, expected to). Excess breeding results in the destruction of a new childe… or of an old one. Sire’s choice.
- Neonates are expected to fetch food for the oldest Oberloch in town.
- Should family members choose to ghoul local mortals, such people are called “cousins.”
The First Law often adorns signs posted on or around family property, sometimes scrawled in blood, paint or feces. Some rebuke such disgusting ways, instead making cross-stitched wall hangings or wooden carvings with the message front and center.
Horror Houses
When select members of the family branch out and attempt to settle down in a new town, the first thing they do is seek out an appropriate familial Haven (referred to as a “homestead” or “rooming house”). This group dwelling is usually the biggest and most obvious building in town. It could be anything from an antebellum old-money mansion to a crumbling old sewing mill; from a run-down amusement park to a doublewide. The Oberlochs kill the occupants or keep them alive (for food or to become future Brood members), establishing a “safe” place from which to pursue family endeavors. In these horrid sanctuaries, the Oberlochs acquire food, raise grotesque pets, Embrace new childer and even hold violent parties and gatherings.Despite the family’s auspicious and mannered origins, havens tend to run toward disheveled and disgusting. Some actually refer to these places as “horror houses” (as a point of pride). Over time, the places can become models of chaos and fear. Pictures are torn off walls, claw-foot bathtubs are stained with blood, human and animal carcasses are buried haphazardly in the yard. Some havens don’t maintain utilities (although wise members know to steal money from travelers or townsfolk, which can be used to pay power and water bills). Some may even have animals (feral cats, possum or bats) living in otherwise unoccupied rooms. Not all the Oberlochs exist like this, though. Young members tend to preserve a greater semblance of Humanity. It’s the older, stranger Brood who often reside this way, making lurid hell-houses out of once-stately manors. Moving in
When one or several Oberlochs move into a town and establish a new home, they apply a loose-but-effective strategy in “claiming” the area. The first move involves gaining control over a few prominent townsfolk. These could be deputies, reverends, ministers, teachers or clerks. The means of influencing such people varies. Clever newcomers dig up dirt on mortals, hoping to gain some kind of blackmail leverage. Bribery or threats also work. Some Oberlochs go so far as to kidnap a loved one, using the victim as a semi-permanent bargaining chip. Beyond that, other methods include use of Disciplines (specifically Dominate) or making targets into Ghouls. Only under extreme circumstances do Brood members Embrace significant townsfolk this early on.
From there, the Oberlochs choose their homestead for at least the initial stages of settlement. Some make this the first step, but many recognize the need to have a few “fish on the line” first. After all, taking over a house by murdering its occupants could attract local police. It helps to have one or several officers already under thumb.
A homestead provides a place to plot how to claim more of the town as a hunting ground. Is there a bus depot that brings in the occasional runaway? Does the police station have holding cells that might contain a few drunks who won’t be missed? Where do the bad kids, small-town criminals or hermits live? As the months go by, the Oberlochs scheme to take control of these areas. Of course, “control” is an ambiguous term. It could mean simply putting one of the family nearby to stalk such places and bring back food, or it could involve actively Dominating or ghouling appropriate parties to claim new turf.
Oberlochs may stay in a given town for six months or 60 years, depending on how secure the family’s hold is. Should the Brood feel that it’s losing control, it may move on. The family may also pack its bags for other reasons, such as if law enforcement threatens dominance, if other supernatural beings intrude, or if the accursed city encroaches upon rural existence. Any of these are reason enough to skip town. The world is full of meaningless little villages, each one practically bursting with unclaimed blood.
The Brood rarely chooses territory that’s already claimed, whether by blood kin, other vampires or other creatures. The clan prefers fruit that’s free for the picking. Too many conflicts from the get-go only serve to weaken the family unit. That’s not to say, however, that members don’t accidentally settle down in someone else’s backyard. The Oberlochs aren’t omniscient.
Family Fugitives
Not all Oberlochs are happy to be a part of such a tight-knit, undead family. Truth is, most neonates are frightened and appalled at what they are, but are made to see the error of their ways by parents and elders. Happy or not, few Oberlochs ever escape the family’s clutches. Oh, most try. Few are able to succeed for long, though.Members who go over the fence often make it one or two towns down the road, maybe getting as far as a couple counties away. The Brood doesn’t take to such treachery, and goes through Hell and high water to bring escapees back. The clan organizes what’s commonly called a “rabbit hunt.” Most times the escapee is found, corralled and returned, whether willingly or by force. The fugitive faces whatever justice the Grandmother or Grandfather deems appropriate. Punishment is usually harsh and torturous, but rarely involves destruction unless this isn’t the first or even second attempt. Under those circumstances, getting the offender to cut himself his own switch has obviously taught him nothing, and the next “switch” is driven into his heart.
A handful of the Brood has managed to escape completely. They find relative safety in cities. While a hunting party may attempt to track a “rabbit” into the urban press, hunters lose much of their power in the city. Not only are family members uncomfortable or ignorant about metropolitan areas, but their Allies there are few and far between.
Those rare Oberlochs who make it to the outside world of vampire society find it quite surprising. The sheer presence of a city may not be shocking (some individuals came from cities), but the existence and nature of other supernatural beings — especially other vampires — is often unforeseen. Leaving the relatively simple rules of the Brood behind means entering a realm with infinitely more complex social and political entanglements.
It’s important to note that any Oberloch character who goes to the city as a fugitive is ignorant of most of vampire society, and may run afoul of The Traditions. Resident Kindred who come across such a newcomer may try to learn more about this aberrant bloodline (and may be surprised to discover that the countryside harbors more of these back-road bloodsuckers). Or they could try to put the Oberloch to Final Death should the rube breach The Traditions too often or too blatantly.
Ignorance
“No man is an island,” or so the saying goes, but the Oberlochs try very hard to make that proverb true. Family members have little interest in interacting with the outside world. Extending a hand to the unknown is an invitation to have it bitten off at the wrist. The Brood would rather remain insular and regionally powerful in the small towns it has infested.This isolation translates into a general ignorance about other supernatural beings. Publicly, the family knows enough about Lupines (see below), very little about other vampires, and nothing about the existence of witches or wizards. Such ignorance is not applicable across the board, though.
While neonates almost certainly go dumb, old Oberlochs (some ancillae and the scarce few elders) know more than they’re willing to share. It’s inevitable that over a period of nearly two centuries some members have run into Kindred from other clans and covenants. While such run-ins Haven’t yielded a great deal of information, providing only a piecemeal understanding of vampiric existence outside the family, some Oberlochs at least realize that they’re not alone in their condition. Obviously, the bloodline’s progenitors (Old Alice, specifically) had awareness of other vampires, but none ever anticipated the scope of Kindred existence.
Some old family members have also had encounters with supposed witches. Most of these hypothetical snake charmers were just as isolated as the Oberlochs — women of the Jersey Pine Barrens capable of casting hexes, or Appalachian men who could tell the future by Throwing turkey bones and reading animal droppings. It is as yet uncertain if the lineage has ever encountered “real” mages.
No matter what, the Oberlochs keep the existence of other supernatural creatures hidden from most family. Elders find it useful to keep the majority in the dark, making the oldest the be all, end all of the unearthly world. This code of silence does, however, leave elders alone to speculate about the connection between them and the world’s denizens. Most are content to dismiss other Kindred as nothing more than inferior cousins, but some wonder if they themselves are the true aberrations.
It’s rumored that some of the Brood have kidnapped a few “city” vampires, and keep them contained in old root cellars to learn more about the deviant relatives. Since none have ever witnessed such outsiders, it’s hard to tell if such tall stories are just that, or if victims simply have yet to escape.
Lupines
The Oberloch line has had its share of contact with werewolves. The first encounter was in 1922 in the small town of Henley, deep in the Jersey Pine Barrens. Local family members clashed with the brutish wolf-men over the course of several nights, engaging in a bloody, protracted game of cat-and-mouse. The vampires didn’t know what the hell they were dealing with. Obviously, monsters existed; the Oberlochs were proof positive of that. But these things were different: savage and unkempt, coordinating attacks with a feral intelligence. The family didn’t fare well. Only one member escaped, one-armed but with his unlife intact. That vampire, said to be a Grandfather of the Daniel clan, passed on what little he could discern to family members a few counties over.It has since been an implicit family directive to learn more about shapechangers. Specifically, how to kill the Godforsaken predators. Some family members aren’t quite experts on the subject of Lupines, but know more than most. The Brood asserts many “truths” that are actually homespun superstitions (the beasts are men who fornicated with the Devil, or that werewolves aren’t men at all, but vengeful spirits). One piece of Lupine lore that’s both superstitious and accurate is that these creatures can be harmed by Silver. (Indeed, the occasional Oberloch can be found in the cellar of his Haven, smelting the previous owner’s silverware down into weapons.) Curiously, many Oberlochs know more about werewolves than they do about other vampires.
Despite the family’s ancillary obsession with Lupines, they don’t care enough about the beasts to get too close. The Oberlochs have little interest in a bloody territory war. If there’s proof that werewolves are in an area and could potentially threaten a power base, the vampires are likely to pack their bags and get out of town. There’s no reason to tempt fate. After fleeing, the family may return a few weeks later to test the waters again. If found secure, they probably settle down. If the Lupines continue to loom, that town becomes more or less “dead” to the clan. Only a rare few Oberlochs have attempted to defend their territory against werewolves. The family can relate even fewer success stories.
Common Dress code
Appearance: Family members are almost exclusively Caucasian. The Oberlochs, originally of Swiss blood, generally reject the concept that someone from another race can truly share their lineage, even through the Embrace. The family has a few members of “color,” but only because those mortals seemed exceptionally suited to the clan and its ways. Oberlochs tend to dress in whatever clothes they pilfer from whatever wayward travelers mistakenly come through their small towns. The family favors modest dress, rejecting fancy clothes as a mark of self-importance and frivolity (essentially, “the city”). Their garments tend to become dirty and tattered over time.
Art & Architecture
Haven: When the family moves into a new town, spreading its influence, members start off by securing the biggest house around, whether it’s a crumbling mansion, an old farmhouse or a doublewide trailer. The occupants are killed, Embraced or made the first members of the Herd. Initially, all family members present dwell in this single location. As time passes, however, young Oberlochs may move out to small satellite homes in the immediate area. Should any overcrowding occur, some lesser family members may leave the sanctity of home to move on to another small town.
Common Customs, traditions and rituals
Devotions
The Oberloch bloodline does not possess its own unique Discipline. The vampires don’t really know enough about their condition, even after a hundred or more years, to truly manifest any unique strains of power. The fact of their deviance from the Gangrel clan is as much demarcation as they are intuitively capable of.The family has, however, managed to evolve a few special tricks in the form of Devotions. These powers are largely secret and are meant for the bloodline alone. While it’s not impossible that outsiders would or could learn these powers (see “Family Fugitives,” above, for an idea on how another vampire could encounter Brood members), it’s unlikely. Besides, while these Devotions serve the family and its needs well, they may not be much good to other Kindred.
The family is spread far and wide, but also very thin. Some clusters may know these tricks or be altogether ignorant of them. Others may have concocted their own home-brewed powers meant to suit the specifics of their nightly existence.
Major organizations
Covenant: This bloodline is largely hidden and ignorant of vampire society outside its own grim, backwoods niche. Categorically speaking, the lineage is almost universally unaligned. A rare number of Oberlochs have purposefully escaped the family’s clutches, fleeing to partswhere they can’t be found or won’t be sought. Such fugitives are any covenant’s game, often hiding anonymously among the ranks of whatever group seems the most capable of sheltering them.
Organization: Oberlochs organize somewhat like a mortal family. “Parents” hold authority over their childer, and their own sires hold authority over them. All members in a given territory are beholden to the rule of the single oldest predecessor (always referred to as “Grandmother” or “Grandfather”). Beyond that, the only authority figure is (according to some family members) a myth. Family legend holds that one of the original progenitors still lives in the coal-saddled hills of upstate Pennsylvania. This matriarch, the Oberloch known only as “Old Alice,” is said to send her own childer out from time to time to “check up on” family members in the wide world. Her legend mainly makes for a boogey man story told to keep young kin in line, but enough evidence of family condition, structure and tradition suggests that the story could be true.
Organization: Oberlochs organize somewhat like a mortal family. “Parents” hold authority over their childer, and their own sires hold authority over them. All members in a given territory are beholden to the rule of the single oldest predecessor (always referred to as “Grandmother” or “Grandfather”). Beyond that, the only authority figure is (according to some family members) a myth. Family legend holds that one of the original progenitors still lives in the coal-saddled hills of upstate Pennsylvania. This matriarch, the Oberloch known only as “Old Alice,” is said to send her own childer out from time to time to “check up on” family members in the wide world. Her legend mainly makes for a boogey man story told to keep young kin in line, but enough evidence of family condition, structure and tradition suggests that the story could be true.
Nickname: Brood
Character Creation: Oberlochs value family members of keen mind and strong body. Either Physical or Mental Attributes are dominant. Social Attributes fall by the wayside as the Oberlochs feel that social graces are a needless luxury that don’t apply to them. As rural predators, what does it matter if you say “Please,” or “Thank you,” or know which goddamn spoon is the proper one for soup? What matters is a sharp eye, a hunter’s instinct and a Strong Back.
The family prides itself on choosing “kin” with prominent Physical Skills, as well (Athletics, Brawl and Survival being chief among them). A handful of other Skills are also seen as indications of “Good Breeding,” such as Animal Ken, Intimidation, Crafts and Subterfuge.
The most prized Merit among the Oberlochs is Haven. Most family units pool dots in the Merit to equate whatever large shelter is taken over and occupied.
Bloodline Disciplines: Animalism, Dominate, Protean, Resilience
Weakness: When the surviving mortal family members were Embraced and left for dead, they were forced to wander like nomads, succumbing to the same animal urges that burn in Gangrel blood. Oberlochs feature the same weakness as their parent clan, their minds slowly breaking down as feral cravings overtake them. With regard to dice pools based on Intelligence and Wits Attributes, the 10 Again rule does not apply. Additionally, any 1’s that come up on a roll subtract from successes. (The latter part of the weakness does not affect dramatic-failure rules.) This weakness does not apply to dice pools involving Perception or Reaction to Surprise (see p. 151 of the World of Darkness Rulebook), or to the Resolve Attribute.
Vampires of the Oberloch “family” are also subject to physical breakdown over time. They understand their condition to a point, recognizing that they defy the laws of God and biology by existing at all. Yet, they still understand themselves as family — specifically as a mortal one, despite all evidence to the contrary — and this backward belief is a curse.
While undead, the Oberlochs still age. Their skin becomes sallow and wrinkled, their muscles atrophy, joints fuse and ligatures tighten over time. A family member Embraced at age 50 who exists as a vampire for an additional 50 years appears more or less as a 100-year-old person. An Oberloch who has spent 200 or more years on this Earth looks exactly like a 200-year-old might look: skin desiccated like sun-dried vellum, face pressed tightly to a withering skull, fingers curled in like the legs of a dead spider. For every 50 years that an Oberloch exists as a vampire, a single dot is removed from each of his Physical Attributes. Physical Attributes may not be reduced below 1, though.
This weakness leads some of the Brood to speculate that they are not indeed vampires, or dead in any sense, but exist with prolonged lives whose inevitable march is slowed to a freakish crawl. It’s for this reason that many choose to Embrace young men and women, often teenagers. (Few Oberlochs ever Embrace children. A child’s body may appear young for a long time, but it also never grows past the stunted frame of early youth.)
Concepts: Teen runaway, town mayor, lost traveler, unsuspecting vacationer, store owner, park ranger, hillfolk, deer hunter, miner, hermit
The family matron now known as Old Alice is still around, despite suggestions that her existence is nothing more than a fable. She still dwells in the first family Haven of Harmony, Pennsylvania, contained mostly to a single room where she rants and raves about what she believes is prophecy, and what her keepers believe is mad gibbering. Her tenders (old members of the line) take her out from time to time to “visit” with other Oberlochs. Such ancillary family rarely meet Old Alice’s expectations, and end up as either food or ash.
What do local townsfolk think of a cadre of Oberlochs moving in? Often, not much. They certainly don’t assume that such backwoods oddballs and nocturnal rednecks are creatures of the night. The general assumption is that the newcomers are just goddamn weird. Most small towns have families like that. They might live up on a hill just outside of town, have a pack of barking dogs penned up by chain-link fence, or can be seen staring through the windows of shops or restaurants. The unsettling family, whether alive or dead, is the object of whispered rumors and legend. Locals recognize that such people are off-kilter or potentially dangerous, but are often content to leave it at that. Of course, that’s until their kids go missing after playing too close to “the old farmhouse."
The western town of Fort Assumption is home to an old collapsed Silver mine called the Babyhead Mine, named for the dried-up creek bed it parallels. The town, once booming, is now mostly devoid of a populace, being counted among the throng of ghost towns in the American West.
The town does have a few temporary occupants, though: three Oberloch vampires who subsist in a broken-down RV. These undead (two men by the names of Martin and Uriah, and a recently Embraced teenage girl who goes by Dani) travel to and from the ghost town for one purpose — to collect Silver meant for those “damned critters.” These three single-minded Brood members cater to no discussions or alliances with werewolves, and hope to put every last one of them six feet under.
Parent ethnicities
The family prides itself on choosing “kin” with prominent Physical Skills, as well (Athletics, Brawl and Survival being chief among them). A handful of other Skills are also seen as indications of “Good Breeding,” such as Animal Ken, Intimidation, Crafts and Subterfuge.
The most prized Merit among the Oberlochs is Haven. Most family units pool dots in the Merit to equate whatever large shelter is taken over and occupied.
Bloodline Disciplines: Animalism, Dominate, Protean, Resilience
Weakness: When the surviving mortal family members were Embraced and left for dead, they were forced to wander like nomads, succumbing to the same animal urges that burn in Gangrel blood. Oberlochs feature the same weakness as their parent clan, their minds slowly breaking down as feral cravings overtake them. With regard to dice pools based on Intelligence and Wits Attributes, the 10 Again rule does not apply. Additionally, any 1’s that come up on a roll subtract from successes. (The latter part of the weakness does not affect dramatic-failure rules.) This weakness does not apply to dice pools involving Perception or Reaction to Surprise (see p. 151 of the World of Darkness Rulebook), or to the Resolve Attribute.
Vampires of the Oberloch “family” are also subject to physical breakdown over time. They understand their condition to a point, recognizing that they defy the laws of God and biology by existing at all. Yet, they still understand themselves as family — specifically as a mortal one, despite all evidence to the contrary — and this backward belief is a curse.
While undead, the Oberlochs still age. Their skin becomes sallow and wrinkled, their muscles atrophy, joints fuse and ligatures tighten over time. A family member Embraced at age 50 who exists as a vampire for an additional 50 years appears more or less as a 100-year-old person. An Oberloch who has spent 200 or more years on this Earth looks exactly like a 200-year-old might look: skin desiccated like sun-dried vellum, face pressed tightly to a withering skull, fingers curled in like the legs of a dead spider. For every 50 years that an Oberloch exists as a vampire, a single dot is removed from each of his Physical Attributes. Physical Attributes may not be reduced below 1, though.
This weakness leads some of the Brood to speculate that they are not indeed vampires, or dead in any sense, but exist with prolonged lives whose inevitable march is slowed to a freakish crawl. It’s for this reason that many choose to Embrace young men and women, often teenagers. (Few Oberlochs ever Embrace children. A child’s body may appear young for a long time, but it also never grows past the stunted frame of early youth.)
Concepts: Teen runaway, town mayor, lost traveler, unsuspecting vacationer, store owner, park ranger, hillfolk, deer hunter, miner, hermit
Old Alice
The family matron now known as Old Alice is still around, despite suggestions that her existence is nothing more than a fable. She still dwells in the first family Haven of Harmony, Pennsylvania, contained mostly to a single room where she rants and raves about what she believes is prophecy, and what her keepers believe is mad gibbering. Her tenders (old members of the line) take her out from time to time to “visit” with other Oberlochs. Such ancillary family rarely meet Old Alice’s expectations, and end up as either food or ash.
Human Perspective
What do local townsfolk think of a cadre of Oberlochs moving in? Often, not much. They certainly don’t assume that such backwoods oddballs and nocturnal rednecks are creatures of the night. The general assumption is that the newcomers are just goddamn weird. Most small towns have families like that. They might live up on a hill just outside of town, have a pack of barking dogs penned up by chain-link fence, or can be seen staring through the windows of shops or restaurants. The unsettling family, whether alive or dead, is the object of whispered rumors and legend. Locals recognize that such people are off-kilter or potentially dangerous, but are often content to leave it at that. Of course, that’s until their kids go missing after playing too close to “the old farmhouse."
Texas Silver
The western town of Fort Assumption is home to an old collapsed Silver mine called the Babyhead Mine, named for the dried-up creek bed it parallels. The town, once booming, is now mostly devoid of a populace, being counted among the throng of ghost towns in the American West.The town does have a few temporary occupants, though: three Oberloch vampires who subsist in a broken-down RV. These undead (two men by the names of Martin and Uriah, and a recently Embraced teenage girl who goes by Dani) travel to and from the ghost town for one purpose — to collect Silver meant for those “damned critters.” These three single-minded Brood members cater to no discussions or alliances with werewolves, and hope to put every last one of them six feet under.