A little game: 4.0 Epilogues

[Falco1029]

Less a game and more a final bit of storytelling, but regardless, this thread is meant to be a place for people to give their headcanon for what happened to their 4.0 character after the game ended, timeline-wise. Feel free to give an explanation for as many characters as you played, and don't feel like you need to account for anyone else's epilogue, it's just a place to share your own view of what happened.

To get the ball rolling, here's Adam's:

With the Bishop of Atlanta defeated, and the City coming to a point of near-peace, comparatively speaking, the Castellan found himself, once again, retreating into his studies as often as possible, his duties to the Ordo and to the City still kept to, but perhaps not with the same fervor as when the town was in more immediate danger. At first, at least.

The changes came slowly. As his knowledge of the Coils and other magics increased, he began to slip away a little at a time. While still seen, he started to take on a slight haziness, like he was as much an illusion as physically present, a figment of the mind. Then, as more time went on, his mind seemed continually split in focus, as if nearly always focusing on two things at once; for that matter, he never seemed to sleep anymore, either, though few would pick up on that.

Eventually, he seemed to become something else entirely. Upon being named Kogaion of the city, at the former's demand, he ceased physically appearing altogether (or perhaps once he changed, he was named, it's hard to say what came first). Sure, he did his duty, catalogued the nests and the Ordo's other resources, and guided those to them that needed to, but never in a direct, physical manner anymore. He was seen from then on only in visions and dreams, those 'speaking' to him always certain it's him, but never able to contact him of their own accord (at least, none outside of his former bloodline).

The local Fae, of course, knew of him too; how could they not? To those that already knew him, he was a mystery, none entirely sure how he managed to blend so fully with the Skein without a direct connection to the Wyrd of his own. To the freehold at large, he took on the role of a phantom protector, here and there, appearing within nightmares and the workings of incubi (and worse) to bring control back to the minds of the changelings so infected, and as the years passed, he became more of a legend than the known vampire he once was.

So, his influence on the city remains, perhaps even more powerfully, if at an odd distance compared to what it used to be. It's perhaps not the transcendence most within the Ordo Dracul speak of, but few would argue that it's a potent, noteworthy transformation nonetheless.

[typhoidmary]

Merry most certainly ended her career as Hound by becoming a diablerist. She probably lives on the road now, skulking from town to town, a completely gone vitae addict with more than a few souls bouncing around her brain.

[praetor]

Years had passed since the last invasions of enemy vampires into Savannah. Years Cassandra has used to delve deeper into her books. Knowledge had come, expansion into her ultimate goal; true immortality.

As a Blood Sorceress, her skills lead her to the realm of spirits., in particular the kinds of spirits that followed her resonance: pain, blood, and death.

Thought it had taken years, she had found the way, a combination of a powerful ritual of Crauc, and use of spirits, she could ascend, step from the mortal realm to the spirit world, and become a god. True immortality, to exist without fear, to never die. All was in her grasp, and all was ready.

Deep in the Swamp, near a dangerous natural shallow between realms she enacted her rites, She called upon the power of her blood, and drew the spirits to her. In a flash of agony and torrents of blood the shallow became a tear, spirits poured into the real world about her, drawn inexorably to her presence, and then to their surprise, into her personally. She began to feed on their very beings.

In the dark, enemies had gathered, beings of spiritual knowledge and magic, the Uratha had come as well. Unknowing what was about to happen, all had sensed the danger. A Creature such as what Cassandra might become would be anethama to Savannah, perhaps even much of the world. A balance may be destroyed.

Sensing the growing strength of the vampire and its actions, they boiled form the darkness into combat.

What follows is only spoken of in whispers, hushed tones and half remembered parts. None truly recall the conflict that followed for memory was lost or became fragmented; twisted beyond proper recognition.

Hours later as the sun began to rise, the remaining Spirit masters slunk away to tend their wounds, the Uratha remaining just long enough to gather their dead.

The torn wound in reality was closed, and Casandra was nowhere to be seen.

Almost all assume victory, and rightfully so. Had Cassandra achieved her dream, she would have become a thing of torture and pain in the spirit realm, a god of agony. Her presence would have brought suffering and death in the real world. So on quiet nights those who fought, and lived, celebrate tearing down divinity, and the city is safe.

.

.

.

.

.

However far below the swamps. Sleeping in a deep torpor, healing and waiting, Cassandra dreams her broken dreams of rising again, and achieving that power she has always sought.

[randomim]

A Dolls Story

Some say she left savannah traveling with The Carnival of Dreams in secret for reasons all her own, some say she quietly met her end at the hands of someone she called a friend. Some say she was taken back by her keeper, the Little Lady loving her again. Some say she never left, and still secretly advises Queen Justine and is the secret crafter of her regal finery. Some say she wandered into the dark dreary depths of the underworld never to return. Some that remember her still wonder what became exactly of the stoic doll, just what did happen to Porcelain Penny?

The truth is stranger than fictions, and such is often the way of the fae. The Princess of Winter is dead, but still she exists. Not many remembered the strange duplicate if the Doll Lady that appeared one fateful winter ball, but the two were almost entirely identical. You could never tell them apart unless you had seen them both unclothed and it was fair to say that VERY few people in this world had looked upon her without several layers of dress. It was certain that the assassin of the winter court that poisoned the double was not aware he mistook the identity after Lady Penny had her strange twin leave town with the carnies, the poor mad thing died peacefully in her likenesses place.

The Lady of Tears remained in the deeps of the darkness searching for the soul of her lost love, to free him to the release of the great beyond, but what is dead can never die. Dread bargains she made with the great keepers of the dead, and liberties she gained, for like Orpheus himself even the stone cold dead kings could be moved to tears by the subtle depths and truths of a fatebound Princesses heart. The Lady there remains forever, alive yet not among the living, sustained by minor magics and the glamour of the duties she has sworn to. What is the dead lords can never leave their dead kingdoms, but The Mistress can remain with them to ease their lonely suffering. When one by one her Family passed, she was their to greet them, to guide them into her new house. The Mother of the dead reunited with those she most loved, and every year just before the Winter Solstice a package would be delivered to Justine Frostine with a new wonder of winter. Confounded and delighted, The Unbidden Princess would never be found... at least not by those still among the living.

[Wolfpact]

The Lady Elisheva Mountfort had been in her time the Scrivener, the keeper of the archives,and the Witch of the Bitter Winds, and had served as adviser to the various Crowns in time of chaos for the Freehold.

And then, one Summer night, she vanished with no warning or fanfare. Feeling the weight of the knowledge she possessed and the pull of her Season as her tie to it grew absolute, the gentlewoman scholar fled the mortal world and, as had once been her wont, went a bit mad. in the Thorns a great tower rose, ruled by a mad Witch; then one day a stranger, seething with the Wyrd, came and braved the Witch's Tower and its dangers. That night the tower crumbled away, and in time the Witch was forgotten.

It was years later, in a time of dire hardship and threat from Loyalists and Privateers, that a cloaked figure appeared in Savannah, wielding terrifying Fae magicks and commanding a force of powerful hobgoblins, cloaked in a crushing Mantle of Autumn itself. Casting down horrific storms of ice and curses of direst sort, the cloaked form broke the invaders and sent them scurrying into the Thorns again, and then took a knee before the gathered Royal Circle to reveal herself as not only a member of the Office of Vizerial COunsel, but as the forgotten Witch of the Bitter Winds...

And, powerful, quiet, refined and eternal, Vizier Mountfort serves the Freehold of Rose Dhu to this day, and for all those that shall follow it.

[MarianneP]

Neaera retreated from Savannah without fanfare. Things were undoubtedly quieter without the tempestuous elemental around and news would slowly filter in through the grapevine of gossip and travelling goblin markets as she moved west across the country. From the news, she was still quick to anger and quicker to defend those she had befriended. The Storm Corp, the Tempest Knights spread across the country as she went, and the entitlement swiftly grew. Many came back to Savannah to visit and though they didn't explain why they were there to outsiders, others of the entitlement knew that they came to visit the Entitlement's hollow where all the elements were perfectly balanced with one another. It took several years but eventually Nea made it to the Pacific- San Diego to be precise. She had become powerful and the strength of her Wyrd combined with a distinct emotional instability and dipping clarity made several members of the Viziers quite concerned. They cornered her in San Diego, pressing her to leave the Storm Corp and join their own order but she violently rejected the idea and vanished into the ocean. She had always joked about swimming to Hawaii and creating her own volcanic private island.

[connie]

Marie used her wealth to ensure the Kindred fighting in the war against the Archbishop were well-supplied. She used numerous tricks to practically write a blank check for the affairs, and did so heedless of covenant affiliation on condition that all equipment would be returned to the care of the Sheriff and/or Prince at the end of the conflict. Throughout the conflict, she offered up the Palladium as a well-secured gathering point for strategic and tactical meetings, and provided "refreshments" to the warriors.

With the conclusion of the conflict, she held a grand ball at the Palladium that would go down in the annals of Kindred history in Savannah as worthy of note. She saw to it that all parties who participated kept their manners and established the Invictus landmark as a popular meeting place. She would lobby for some time to have it established as Elysium, and to break her way into the leadership of the city, though never seeking too much. Preferring to keep to the background, she never sought the Princehood, instead opting to keep to her ways of offering even-handed advice to the Prince and other functionaries who would listen; she kept holding events, and gradally acclimating even the more intractable Carthians to Invictus manners in her walls, if only the bare minimum.

The Kindred of the city found themselves slipping into those manners even when they weren't at the Palladium. It made things more genteel, more smooth. "Manners are the lubricant of society," she would remind people. The lesson stuck. Respected for not being as grasping as others, doing her best to maintain fairness... no one saw what she was doing. For their own good, the aging Toreador smiled as she heard even neonates listening to her favorite music, painting to appease her tastes, and never forgetting to address her properly.

She would continue to influence as best she could, through every angle she could, as indirectly as possible, until the city was Invictus in all but name. "Soft power is the best kind of power," she would comment to her childe, "No one knows you're using it until they've learned to enjoy it."

[Fixxxer]

Roman Chambers, Elodoth of the Storm Lords returned to Savannah after a pilgrimage into the Shadow. Returning to a city where the Uratha were broken, utterly leaderless and at eachother's throats, being invaded by so-called "cousins". Roman attempts to return Honor and Glory to the Uratha of Savannah by overthrowing the prideful, arrogant and lazy from their positions of leadership and takes control, leading the True Wolves of Savannah in a glorious cleansing of the skin-changers and rooting out the cancerous wolves that hid from punishment for far too long. As they kneel before Roman and prepare to face judgement he proclaims from now on, the Wolves are kings and all others return to their rightful place underneath them.