Johan Von Straud

Title: Initiate of the Untamed Terror
Clan: Ventrue
Covenant: Ordo Dracul



Life and Death

Johan Von Straud was born in 1742 in the town of Röthenbach to the Burgomeister Herman Von Straud and his wife Adelina.
Highly intelligent and inquisitive from birth he made friends easily, often tutoring less able students and making peace between would be bullies and their victims. There was never any doubt in the minds of the townspeople that Johan was destined to take over his father's role or perhaps even go further into government.
At the age of 18 he was granted a scholarship to Nürnberg university studying biology, much to the chagrin of his father who dearly wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. Johan devoured the texts and assignments of his beloved subject, the workings of the human body fascinated him, to the point where he spent what little free time that he had volunteering at the local physicians and chemists learning all he could of the practices associated with the sciences.
He graduated in 1763 and returned home, while his father had reluctantly supported him throughout his pursuit of knowledge in his chosen field, he still felt the need to have a deeper effect on his only child’s development. A life long Freemason he was determined that in this alone Johan would be his father’s son.
And so just after his 21st birthday he was inducted into the local lodge. Many of the local merchants, politicians and officials made up the membership and, while he was made welcome as a lewis (or direct relative of a Freemason), he found the commitment of time to the fraternity to be counter to his own goals. He longed to continue his own studies, earn his doctorate and join one of the great hospitals.
To please his father he quickly memorised the various ceremonies, moved through the degrees and was presented with his grandfather’s ceremonial apron upon his completion of the third degree. As a full member of the fraternity he visited other lodges with his father and began to make contacts in his own field. At this Freemasonry seemed to actually have relevance to him and he felt it would not be long before he had the opportunity to do what he genuinely wanted with his life.
It was through this readymade network of influential men that he earned a place at Freiburg hospital and the chance to complete his studies and earn his doctorate.
This he achieved by the time he was 25, now fully qualified and established in his own small practice in nearby Wetzendorf.
Close enough that he was expected to still regularly attend meetings at the lodge, he did so out of a sense of duty to his father and with gratitude for the opportunities they had offered that he would not otherwise have had. He had all he really wanted in life, he had intellectual challenge he had a means of helping others and his family were mollified by his acceptance of his fathers’ values.
But his achievements did not come without attracting the attentions of kindred society, one so notable in the local area for his abilities, one so connected to practically every corner of society could not be overlooked. It was only a matter of time before he was chosen, taken from all he had earned, taken from those he loved.
Without warning, without choice, without mercy, he was taken and a new existence forced upon him.
The townsfolk talked of the tragedy, the loss of not only their Burgomeister and his wife to the flames, but also the loss of the town’s prodigal son. A tragedy to the majority of the masons, the loss of two of their brothers in the same fire. A simple plan, easily carried out in such a time. Johan kidnapped as he made his way from his parents house back home late that evening, a body matching his size dressed in his clothes, left in the house as it was put to the torch.
For all anyone knew, none survived.
And so it was that at the age of 26 in the year 1768, Johan Von Straud was taken from this life and embraced into kindred society.
Bound and blindfolded he was given neither explanation nor warning of the new existence that was to be his requiem. Teeth at his throat, vitae at his lips, fleeting moments barely remembered as the screams of his parents echoed in his mind.
In the next instant, light returned, he saw with new eyes the world around him, everything utterly new but painfully familiar as he focused on the black and white tiles making up the pavement beneath his slumped body. The familiarity of the raised dais and the chairs carefully placed around the room. He knew this place and many others like it and as this realisation dawned upon him, his sire’s words rang out in the cavernous temple hall, “Welcome to the 33rd degree”.
“Your life as you have known it up to now has been merely an illusion to prepare you for eternity, you have been chosen for your mind and your abilities, you have been chosen to enter the greatest secret in the world.”

Newly reborn and reborn again

Six months passed quickly as his sire, as he had come to understand him, taught him the ways of kindred, clans, covenants and the fascination of the blood. Where as he had previously always been at the pinnacle of all he did in life, referred to with respect, acknowledged as a promising doctor, he now found himself with a new title, one which sat with him exceptionally poorly.
“Slave Johan, the Ordo Dracul seek to become greater even than this existence, this is achieved through the coils of the Dragon, he who showed us the way, the one we seek to emulate in all that we do. You will learn how to overcome the baser nature that now dwells within you.”
Locked within a featureless empty room, Johan learned what it meant to lose control, to frenzy and learned the nature of the beast. For months he was subjected to this process.
All the while Professor Adelbert Drechsler produced copious notes on the subject, until finally, convinced he had learned all he could from the experiment, Johan was finally taught the method of chrysalis.
It had been Johan’s intention at this point to try to flee from his master and try to continue his studies in his own right and up to a point he got his wish. Several nights later five other kindred arrived at the home Drechsler, he had never before seen his sire show deference to anyone, falling to his knees before whomsoever this individual was. Before he could even take in the new arrivals fully there was a motion faster than Johan could make out, Drechler’s head appeared to separate from the body momentarily before all that remained was ash.
The newcomer made her way over to Johan, speaking softly “You were embraced without my permission, a crime committed against you but not by you. It is unfortunate that the Adept had to be put to death, but there can be no exceptions. Remain here.”
She and two of those with her moved on into the house and were gone for what seemed like hours, leaving him with only two very large and imposing individuals who regarded him with barely an impassive glance.
“You shall come with us now to Berlin”, her voice came as a great surprise to him as she approached silently from behind “we have an academy there where your skills will be put to better use, you will be wasted no longer”.

A capital idea

Johan learned quickly and far more deeply studying with Master Gerlinde Engel. He learned the purpose of the sworn and what it meant to be numbered among them. He yearned to prove himself in his study of the coils that he might be considered for such an honour. Gerlinde began teaching him more of the weakness of kindred, her own specialism and the coil in which she held the majority of her tiers.
It became quickly apparent to her that the brutal method of Johan’s procurement for the Ordo had come at a great price, beyond the normal reaction to fire was a deep-seated and personal fear. For him to ever succeed in this coil he would need to over come this problem first.
Their final act before their journey to Berlin was to destroy all evidence of Drechler’s house and holdings, his research preserved however, everything else was to be removed lest a single trace of his supernatural existence be found by the kine. She gave this task to Johan, speaking to the part of him that had been wronged by his sire, speaking to the most basic and essential urges of revenge, though it took several nights and a great force of will, encouragement and indeed threats he eventually managed to carry a lit torch in his hand. So simple an act he would have taken for granted only so recently. He carefully laid this down at the tail end of a long trail of kindling and quickly retreated to his new master. They watched together from a great distance as the flames licked higher and townspeople tried to extinguish the flames, it finally collapsed in on itself.
This place had been his prison and torture chamber for over half a year and by his own hand he had removed it from this world.
“The ability to affect change Johan, that is our greatest advantage over all other kindred, we do not have to accept things as they are. Remember that.”

The journey to the nation’s capital gave him time to think on those words, of how he might change both himself and the world around him how he could change others. He realised now why he’d been chosen, his aptitude for the sciences and surgery in particular were all really just expressions of change. He felt happy for the first time since his embrace that he had not actually been taken so far from his own personal goals and had in fact been given the greatest chance to learn that he would ever receive.

The magnificence of the Berlin Academy left him in awe, both the structure itself and the multitude of Dragons that dwelt and studied within. Here he had found the rarest of individuals those that could genuinely teach him, a place where he was among equals and individuals greater than himself. He was shown to a humble area where he could be safe when the daysleep took him, deep below the academy, coffin like boxes, sealable from within so that in the unlikely event it was taken during the day it was unlikely anyone could open it. It wasn’t much but it would keep him safe, he was told, until such time as he gained the privilege of having a room of his own.
He threw himself into learning all he could. By 1785, Master Engel began to encourage him to once again enter chrysalis a process which he had first attempted and completed under extreme duress. This time he was to finally surmount fire and the fear it inspired, a process he’d began half a decade previously.
From candles, to lamps to full bonfires, he was exposed and exposed again to that which could kill him in an instant. Finally when the frenzy within him was more familiar than his lucid mind he went into chrysalis.
And awoke sometime later with his fear all but gone, he had taken his second step on the road to that which the others had referred to as ascension.
He was congratulated and celebrated by his brothers and sisters of the Dragon, the adoration here so much deeper and more meaningful than any he had previously experienced in life.
And much to his delight, he was presented with a room of his own.

Time for a change

Several months had passed since his second success with the coils, now a proud Scribe he spent every waking hour pouring over texts and consulting with those more experienced and differently experienced. His fascination for the pageantry and hierarchical structure of the Ordo well seeded in his induction to freemasonry two decades previously.
It was then that Master Engel called him to her study, “I have a task for you Johan, a task that will hopefully stand you well in the coils you have yet to learn. You have never to the best of my knowledge travelled outside of Germany and while your credentials are impressive your knowledge of the world in which we live is somewhat lacking, I would actively encourage you to join a touring party who are to leave early next year and visit several of our academies around the world. Take the time to experience new places, people and ways of life. Think on how they might better improve all for which we strive”.
He had heard of the touring parties, but had thought the preserve of the Sworn, inspections and official visits being the only reason to travel from one’s own area. He readily accepted and spent the intervening months in preparation for travel, France, England and most excitingly the Americas. Places known only through books and occasional first hand stories from travellers that had passed through.
By the time he was ready to leave he learned to be practically fluent in both English and French. Getting his mind to work in another language throughout his experiment was truly fascinating and a wonderful exercise in the nature of change. The title of master was not merely an honorific she genuinely understood on a very intricate level just what was required of the kindred mind to bring about subsequent improvement in the body.
The time passed and when the night arrived he felt ready to walk out into larger world.
The length of time the party were to spend in each country was fixed only by how much was felt could be gained from each new venue and how much could be offered to the dragons of the cities they visited.
The party distributed themselves around the country, making themselves known to the courts, offering their services and of course spreading the word of the Ordo.
They would each spend a year in each city, taking notes on what they learned, what they were trying to achieve and how far they had got by the time they had to move on. The rotation would continue until every member of the party had spent a year in each city. A valuable record would be created from many differing points of view and great deal would be learned of the area and likewise they would learn about themselves


His first new experience in France was aiding in setting up haven’s for neonates and inducting them into the ways of the Ordo, never before had he considered teaching as a calling but he found he could turn his hand to this as well.
Building a new academy in Montauban, and taking a position as Master of Elysium when the court was at a loss for trusted officers due to infighting at the time.
In total the party spent ten years in France and while during this time Johan saw some of the Dragons he had taught in the early years actually exceed his attainment of coils he was gladdened by their achievement because he had helped them get there, their achievement reflected on him and he had learned how much it help in this life to have friends.
Their work finally concluded, with Johan’s visit to Paris. He had longed all the many years of the group's visit to this country to go there. But the terms of party were strict and there was to be no interference between the members and their observations were to be their own. Meeting with the Prince of Paris, remains to this day one Johan’s favourite memories.


England was next on their agenda, once they had submitted their ten year findings to the Axe Sworn accompanied representative of the Berlin Academy. Little news had reached them of their home all this time, indeed they’d only seen each other in the brief moments of handover once a year. The news came that Engel was now ranked Illuminus and was close to being in charge of the entire Academy. Johan was pleased to hear of the continuing success of his master, but began feel somewhat displeased that his own progress had faltered.

He went to England with a great deal less enthusiasm than he had to France, doing only the bare minimum as the years spent here slowly crawled by. He found the kindred to be aloof and unwelcoming The Ordo was better established here and he found he could effect events in only minor ways.
His resentment for his assigned work came to the fore as he longed for his homeland and felt the Ordo had stunted his progress with them. He vowed to learn all he could of his own abilities
For the first time he took to taking his victims from the streets and bringing them to several locations around the towns and cities he stayed at, he played with them, commanded them, and learned that the powers of his blood could wipe from their minds all he had done with them.
By the time he had spent another ten years in this country he was greatly changed, an embittered puppet master for whom amusement and cruelty were one and the same. He made no record of any of this for the Ordo, only his observations of how events unfolded.

By the time they reconvened at Plymouth ready for the final leg of their journey, there were two of their original number missing. Both promising scribes, one had apparently been recalled Berlin and was now an Initiate Sworn of the Mysteries the other had apparently been destroyed by hunters. Johan seethed at the success of his covenant mate. Before they had been united in their exile, now one had been chosen for privilege while he festered in every god forsaken pit on the planet.

The trip to America

He swore that in America, a new world not governed by the same old ideals he would create something new, something where he could truly shine like did with the greatness of his youth. The new century of the 1800s that he had seen in without the slightest raise of an eyebrow would be his time.

The trip was long, incredibly dull and woefully unpleasant, as he only had a single ship on which to feed, for a kindred of another clan it might have been very dangerous too. He considered at one point rewriting all of their minds to be his slaves and taking the ship off course, going somewhere else entirely and setting up on his own. But he knew that the great minds of the Ordo would track him down and his punishment would have been as swift as that of his sire.
He contented himself with creating real life drama’s with the lives of these individuals, making some fall in love (an experience utterly denied to him his entire life), making others hate each other and fight until both were gravely wounded. And he of course was their timely benefactor to put his skills to use on those he had inspired to injure each other.
He began to wonder that he could make another like himself, as he had been made, he had been taught the process of embrace and how it was forbidden without permission and again his sire’s fate was at the forefront of his mind.
He let the ideas flow to the back of his mind and entertained himself as best he could with his human theatre.


When he arrived in America his first posting to a town of English settlers close to that of the indigenous population. The interaction between the two diverse areas would make for interesting study. To his immense surprise he found the area to be devoid of kindred, he reasoned the town simply wasn’t yet big enough to support more than a few of his kind.
He took to making sport between the natives and the settlers, he quickly learned enough of their natives language to get by and make sufficient suggestive remarks that led to the area becoming a great deal more hostile. And resulted in the tribe taking back a number of local areas sacred to them. Seeing the reactions of both sides was especially entertaining.
He took control of the mayor and his council and set himself up a little toy empire. He was delighted to find that though the town was small it did have a Masonic Hall. He quickly set himself up as a visiting high degree inspector, giving him that same ready made network he’d once enjoyed.
He thought that in the year he had in which to manipulate these townsfolk he could make a colossal mess for whoever came after him and the worse they looked in their work the better they might think of him.
And so his little theatre played out each night, for weeks at a time he would just watch from the corner of the tavern or townhall and when proceedings bored him he’d see how things could be made more interesting.
Finally the day arrived when he was supposed to move on, but his replacement didn’t arrive, he went to the rendezvous, waited for the best part of a night and there he stood by himself, again the next night and again for a week. There was no contact. For the first time in over twenty years he felt as though he was outside the confines of the Ordo and their ridiculous task. He decided to see just how long it would take for his relief to arrive, just what may have happened to the rest of the party? Maybe they’d all been recalled and he was to be left here, exiled and forgotten. He cared not. He would remain here, play out his whims and when the feeling took him he might very well take one of them as his childe.
Four years past in this way, four years of complete control, minions dancing to his tune and no one to stop him.
No hierarchy, no master, just his own will. No one to judge him nor offer praise. It was at the last realisation that his mind snapped. He’d lost all the glory his abilities had brought him, he was now as twisted as the one who’d made him.

Fight or Flight

In the night that followed his revelation he decided to go to the next town, in search of any of his covenant. This town was much further from the frontier and a great deal more established, he followed the scent of his own kind and found himself at a court, the best part of six years had past since the last time he’d stood at such a gathering in England. He was instantly seized and brought before the prince, a man who in life had clearly been of the same stock as the natives that he’d so recently enjoyed playing with.
He was questioned as to why he was there, what he’d been doing, how long he’d been doing it. He offered answers, but they clearly weren’t interested, from what he could make out having learned some of their language over the past four years, the rest of the party had been driven out or killed by these kindred as they had felt them to be spies and they hadn’t thought there was anyone else left.
He was passed to an imposing blonde kindred, who flexed her terrifying claws before grabbing him by the hair. He knew there was only one purpose for such a discipline in this venue.
She took him outside, past the other assembled kindred and into the cool night air. Keeping him held firmly in her iron grasp she took him half way across town before she finally spoke.
“I am Mingan, warrior of the Jumlin tribe, I have been instructed by my chief to kill you as you are a threat to us and the children.”

She quickly sliced across his chest with a knife, he winced and recoiled. Taking his blood she smeared it across her hands and mouth.

I have watched you often as you go to the children, you tell them to be strong to take back from the newcomer what they have taken. The children are happier and stronger because of you. You have done what we could not, we cannot tell the children to make war it is not our way. But you have just told them to be strong and they are, they choose their own path and will join us one day soon. You are no threat to them or us. Go, now.”
With her words, she crouched to the ground and there was quickly a wolf standing in her place. It’s face and paws slick with blood, it ran off back in the direction they’d come.

Going home

Johan ran, faster and further than he had ever had reason to, stopping only when the light of day drove him to sleep, many times barely making it to shelter, feeding when he could. Ever the thought that those kindred might be waiting for him.
Finally reaching the coast, he quickly took control of a group of merchants bound for Europe, they paid for his passage believing him to be both one of their own and indeed the fraternal brother he actually was.
He arrived back in France in the year 1811, 25 years had passed since he’d last been home and now it was within reaching distance. He felt a great deal more secure here and travelled with the same group of merchants for cover and finance, barely stopping before reaching Berlin.
He released the men from his control, telling them of wonderful opportunities to be had in this country and leaving them with sense that they had met a wonderful business associate and they were richer for the experience.
His return to the academy came with none of the expected jubilation, very few remained who even remembered him and most of them were now so far in advance him in coils it made his head spin. He was given light duties in one of the libraries, due to his harrowing experience and might have disappeared into welcome anonymity had it not been for the events that unfolded soon after.
In his haste to make his way back home and with his business associates in tow, he had not given thought to the fact that others from a Masonic background might also be using this fraternity for there own ends. During their time in France, it had only been the fact he hadn't told them to remain silent about his presence with them. One then made mention in passing to someone else that they’d just had the good fortune to meet such an influential brother and had brought him with them on their travels.
A little investigation had lead to a discrepancy that certain individuals wanted to know the answer to. Tracking down the businessmen was no small task, as they’d only mention that Berlin was their destination, but upon their arrivals the Hunters eventually found them as they’d setup a tailors in the city and purchased a warehouse. They were only too happy speak of their good fortune and their friend who’d given them such good advice.
Small actions can have exceptionally large consequences.
It was not long before their sharp eyes fell upon the academy, the hunters came in their droves, powerful and terrible weapons launched rock and flame into the great heart of learning. Kindred within attempted escape, Axe Sworn moved quickly to exit the building to defeat the attackers. The centre of Berlin became a warzone.
Johan ran for the only safety he had known in this place, would the coffins of the neonates still be here? Would they be safe? He might not survive the night but it was his best chance.

Sealed away.

Noises and vibrations were all he could sense now, absolute blackness pervaded the interior of the box. Shouted orders, screams for mercy, screams of defiance on both sides. Let them all be damned he thought to himself, let every one last ungrateful bastard see the dawn and be ash. He thought of all he had endured, all he had suffered through, thought of all those who had control and the pleasure such power had brought him. When this was over and whatever may be left of it was rebuilt, he would make a great many changes, he would see to it that his position was safe that he would be safe. He would never again allow anyone with more authority than him to endanger his existence. He would control kindred like he controlled kine and he would have the respect deserved to him.
The battle sounded more distant now, the fight had clearly moved outside and seemed to be getting more distant. The smell of smoke got heavier in the air and Johan was grateful for the fact that he no longer need to breathe. He began to become concerned that the building may well collapse, the realisation came to him that he would be trapped here and there might be no one to dig him out.
As the realisation struck so did the ceiling, as the building collapsed inwards burying and impaling the few kindred that were elsewhere and leaving Johan, 30 feet underground and buried under tons of rubble.
The realisation of this mistake was too late and so trapped, his mind raged and cursed everyone including himself. At dawn he naturally slumped into unconsciousness, fitful dreams were his only companion, before he awoke once again to the inky blackness and hunger took hold of him and he beat at the interior of his prison until his hands were covered in blood. He tried taking sustenance in this fashion but it did nothing to slake his thirst. It gnawed at his innards and his senses deserted him.
Night after night he would rage, tire himself out and sleep. Until at last all strength was gone and he slipped into torpor.

A new age

The first Johan knew of the waking world again was the taste of blood, harsh light burned overhead and his first thought was that he’d been left out to face the dawn. He recoiled.
“Rest easy, you’re among your own kind”, came a solid and powerful voice. Johan sat up to see he was surrounded by men dressed in uniform, pointing what he assumed were some manner of firearms at him. He’d had some experience with these in America, but these looked a great deal different.
“You can leave us now, I don’t think he poses any threat”, the voice spoke again, a voice familiar with authority and command. He was wearing a similar uniform to the men he commanded but clearly had the bearing of an officer.
The soldiers marched smartly out of the room closing the solid metal door behind them.
“I found this box", he tapped it with his boot causing it to offer a dull tone, "while exploring the bowels of a Berlin museum. It appears that the foundations contained a number of interesting artefacts, but you were by far the most interesting and I felt immediate familiarity when I looked inside. This may come as a surprise to you but the year is 1933, I don’t know how long you’ve been down there but judging by your clothes it appears to have been some time. Are you hungry?”
The information of how much time had passed failed to register and the offer of blood was responded to with a weak nod.
He made a gesture to man standing behind him that Johan couldn’t see, he heard a second voice say “this is Graeven, send in the girl”.
The door opened again and a young girl was brought to him, her clothes were likewise unfamiliar to him but he gratefully sank his teeth into her throat and drank until she fell to the floor unconscious or dead, he didn’t care which.
“Now my new friend”, the officer said “where are my manners? I am Colonel Max Von Roht I command the Die-Leibstandarte SS Von Roht. You are in a base belonging to the German SS, or Schutzstaffel, I am presently in overseeing the occupation of France and you my friend may very well be the ally that I have been looking for. Don’t you agree Graeven?”
The second man stepped out of the shadows, he was dressed in a black suit and hat, “Yes Colonel, I think he’s exactly what we’ve been looking for.”

A New Allegiance

Essentially now free of the Ordo’s influence, Johan set about putting his skills to work for the man he came to know as Max. Learning of the new age and the terrible wonders that had been produced since his entombment, Johan found that the entire world was fresh, alive and exhilarating.
In the 12 years that followed the three kindred cut a swath across Europe, seeking out supernatural artefacts with which to bolster the strength of the third reich. They created an elite squad of Aryan ghouls and between them taught them the disciplines of their respective clans, leading to rumours of Nazi super-soliders.
Their skill as torturers and procurers of information was the stuff of legend to those with sufficient clearance to know of their existence, it was believed that no one could lie to them, any information they had they would simply order them to give it and they obeyed. The torture they carried out was simply for their own amusement.
Even when away from the facilities of their base they were first class improvisers often making use of pipes as bludgeons and stabbing weapons and using even a nearby radiator to secure a prisoner.
Had it not been for the untimely end of the war, even Johan himself did not know what they might have eventually achieved. They had been charged with finding the complete set of Judeo-Christian artefacts such as the true cross, arc of the covenant, spear of destiny, the crown of thorns and Turin Shroud. And they came quite close to capturing the last one.

A parting of the ways

With the fall of Germany and their three way partnership now a detriment to each others security they went their separate ways, vowing that one day they would rise again as an unholy triumvirate that would take control in the name of their beloved Germany. Johan travelled to England a place he had detested on his last visit and found it to be, just like Germany and France, much changed.
He kept his head low, moving to a rural area in the north east, hoping to avoid both kindred kind in general and the Ordo specifically, he ghouled a family and lived with them, they continued to farm and live their lives. Johan began to stagnate, not allowing them to have any modern comforts and largely forcing them to live in the same way as they had done when he first found them. Time moved on and they did not, garnering something of a reputation for being “backward hill folk” and by the time the century turned yet again they were practically a tourist attraction.
This forced Johan to destroy the place and free them and he moved on.
65 years was long enough to sulk over what had happened in occupied France. He made a move to find a new court and perhaps begin to learn of this, ever faster, changing world.
It had changed beyond all recognition.
Wandering to a recently established court Johan’s eyes fell upon Max, all these years he’d only been a few dozen miles away. They were more alike than he’d ever realised.
The vow came back to the forefront of his mind. But first he had to deal with his old friends, The Ordo.


Prince of Durham

Claimed praxis of Durham while in Newcastle, over the still twitching body of Konrad Veed, waving a letter from Cassa Darr.

Unblemished Initiate of the Calcified Curse

Highly disputed and confused Ordo title

Head of the Ordo Dracul in The North East

Suceeded Requiem and was suceeded by Elenor Mock

Convener of the Academy

Granted by right of having the most coils and decreed such by Lord Thurim

First Minister of the Shadow Empire

The title he used publically in matters of the Shadow Empire.

Priscus of the Ventrue

Briefly challenged by Dr Hans Ferritz


  • Word is that he is prejudiced against Gangrel
  • Apparently he owns a number of nice suits from Saville Row, but only a few cheap ties bought from TK Maxx
  • It is rumoured that Johan Von Straud served in Die-Leibstandarte SS Von Roht during the Occupation of France
  • he believes it only takes 1 to tango
  • Is under the thumb of his commander.
  • Has been sending constant love notes to Madame Genevieve.
  • Is actually Gangrel. Trying to obfuscate this by making his hatred of the clan well known! We know the truth!
  • He talks the talk, but is actually sh1tting it that he's pissed off the gangrel.
  • Prisoners must be tied or chained to a radiator. In the absence of a radiator, one must be stolen or built.
  • He is filling his basement with Kindred, and his attic.
  • He will only feed using an elaborate straw that has lace running up the side.

‘This man has a strong connection to the vitae so I suggest we tie him to this radiator’

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