White haired, Gangrel woman who is older than most in the city. A lithe athletic body, with a lovely wrack, and a wild look in her deep red eyes. Once you glimpse at her, you can’t help but feel like she is something long forgotten. Rare, and alluring. Every since tingles with curiousity and a breath of desire, something so exotic and wild, even beastial that alludes to her actual nature. Like a wild predator that seems so friendly, so sweet, like you could pet her and be safe doing so. Would you pet her? Would you approach the wild animal that appears out of no where?


1652, a screaming girl is brought into the world and placed into bondage, her screams echoing across the dungeon-esque environment she was being brought into life as. Her human mother was a slave to a mighty lord who was also a vampire. A Tzimisce, and a powerful one near Transylvania during the Omen Wars. Pandora was her name, and she would grow up as a slave in the dark ages. At first as she was raised she was merely a servant to the lord, but as she grew and her beauty became apparent, she was brought to the lord directly and sentenced to eternal life. Though there was luck on her behalf, an attack on the strong hold by a valiant Gangrel was enough to set her free, and she was embraced by Kara the Wild Storm, a Nordic woman much like her and a Gangrel. She was free for several years, and learned the ways of the kindred however her freedom was temporary.

The Tzimisce lord was not dead, and his staggered forces were not staggered for long, he came after the sparse warriors of the Gangrel and slaughtered many of them, recapturing Pandora in the process. Judging her as spoiled now, after abusing her roughly, she was given to a Lasombra Ally who delighted in tormenting her, starving her, beating her, subjecting her to harsh humiliations, and ultimately destroying what personality she had developed all for the simple pleasure of watching the girl quiver and weep the sweet blue blood infront of them. This ultimately is what caused her hatred of both the Tzimisce clan and the Lasombra clan, there abuse and torture of her was something that delighted them, and still to this day she hates them for it.

What once was a sweet young girl was now turning to her beast as the only comfort in this world, a century passed and her torture continued. The Camerilla formed, and the Sabbat as well. The omen wars were slowly abandoned and forgotten, and new lines in the sand were drawn. Her master/mistress were delighted in tormenting her with the prospect of freedom, only to rip it away and abuse her again, enjoying the concept of showing others who defied them what could happen to them. It was a brutal existance, and many night she prayed for the sun’s precious rays to kill her finally and end her suffering. However there was still something deep within her that craved freedom, and kept her resilient. Despite being forced to drink vitae constantly, she never once had feelings for them, she was always defiant. Though this made her special for the monstrous and cruel creatures that owned her. Her defiance just prompted them more harsh treatments, and her abuse continued.

It was until 1859 when she finally had a chance to escape, her chains ripped free by her protean means, and her shackles clinging as the suns first rays ripped into her flesh, she quickly flung herself into the sewers of paris, Protean was her only salvation as she clung to the tunnels like a Nosferatu, the burning embers of her flesh ripped by the sun causing her great pain but she quickly escaped through the day. She kept in the dark, fleeing like a fox from hunters, and oh was she hunted. Every Sabbat was after her, and she gave them such a chase. She finally arrived at the port town of La Havre, where she was able to gain passage aboard a ferry to England. It was in those dark waters where she cast off her shackles, and chains that still clung to her body. Never again would she submit to a master or mistress, never again would she be a slave. She would fight and grow strong. That was her desire, that was her goal.

In England, she met up with some Brujah Antitribu who offered her a new life in the new world, she quickly desired to escape Europe, and begin anew in a new land. Such mystery and to finally cut the shackles of ever being hunted again, or so she thought. She remained below decks through the raging atlantic as she passed the sea, it was a rough journey, but one that caused her heart to expand with great promise, that she would be free in this new world, and learn to be what she always desired.

She remained in the forests in this new world, praying upon the children, and women, and sometimes men who ventured in the forests. Playing the roll of the temptress, bathing in moonsblood and dancing around the great oak in the middle of the night. She was Lilith, she was the great mother of evil, but oh did they desire to meet her in those woods at night. She was a wild animal, and finally began to feel free as she had as much blood and desire as one could sate.

Then expansions, the travel west, the invention of the bigger and better and quicker ways to kill each other. The extinction of the native americans that paid her tribute, and saw her as a goddess that could walk among them, and could join them with brevity and sisterly love. The destruction of forests, and growth of cities. The fundamental aspects of putting away past beliefs and the railroads that began to spring up. The 1800’s were a terbulant time, and much of her life was changed due to them. As the rise of principalities, and the spread of Camerilla and Sabbat began to take hold in the new world, so to would she move westerward. She even found a solid kinship with the werewolves known as the Black Furies, even gaining their trust to an extent. Still to this day, she is known to their clan as someone not to just kill on sight.

The wild west was her playground, and for some time she was a legend there, prompting stories of Wendigos, and shapeshifters, and many other ghostly tale’s on the western expanse. She who followed the path that began to spread with the gold rushes, and the quick growth of the west. Her heart always following her freedom, and regaining a part of her she never knew she had. The sabbat had taken from her so long ago. Yes, it was the Sabbat. The same people that imprisoned her, beat her, raped her, and humiliated her over and over again. Torturing her day and night, those were the leading clans in the Sabbat, and how she hated them.

It wasn’t until she heard about the Anarch State, that she found a new purpose in life, and shit kicking the Sabbat was part of that. She was good at that, really good at that. She had taken to Protean like a new born pup to a nipple and soon mastered the discipline. With the help of her Brujah Allies, learning of the other Physical aspects of disciplines was much easier. She to this day is a prominent member of the Anarch Free State, and remains one hell of a beastial presence there in. She has every desire to kill every Sabbat there ever dares to tempt her wrath.


Roll20 By Night NineTailGoddess