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I. Introduction
II. Deck Discussion - Ferox P.I.M.P
III. Fiction - Short Story - Ferox Must Pay
I. Introduction
This newsletter represents a onetime guest submission from me. I do not play with the Gargoyles enough to write about them every month/quarter. I made this one deck in response to a deck challenge at the Ashheap.com. (http://ashheap.storageannex.com).
Anyway, the deck challenge was to make a poltical deck with at least 15 votes in the library and at least 8 Gargoyles in the crypt. After building it I found I liked it. So I modified it a bit, wrote a fiction piece, and got approval to submit this as a one time newsletter for the Gargoyles.
II. Deck Discussion
OK, the idea of political Gargoyles got me thinking of anarchs- there is no other was to push votes with Gargoyles really. So, in looking over the Anarchs I noted Ferox. Ferox has powerful abilities, and his discipline spread includes Animalism which gives him access to The Mole as well as potence which gives him two out of three Smash and Grab abilities. After a bit of tweaking it here is what I ended up with:
Crypt
Ferox(x3) Independant 7 Cap VIS FOR POT ani
Ferox-A(x3) Independant 7 Cap VIS FOR POT ani
Obsidian(x2) Independent 5 Cap Gargoyle VIS pot for
Tommy !Nosferatu 3 Cap ani pot
Raziya Samater Brujah 3 Cap ani pot
Hasina Kesi Catiff 1 Cap pot
Uriah Winter Caitiff 1 Cap pot for
Library 22
6x Galaric's Legacy
3x Powerbase: Los Angeles
4x Anarch Revolt
Smiling Jack the Anarch
The Anarch Free Press
Hospital Food
Powerbase: Montreal
Powerbase: Washington DC
Powerbase: Chicago
Blood Puppy
The Rack
Fragment of the Book of Nod
Political Actions 15
Rumors of Ghenna
Year of Fortune
Anarch Salon
Disputed Territory
3x Free States Rant
4x Fire Brand
4x Finding the Path
Actions 10
Ablative Skin
2x Army of Rats
2x The Status Perfectus
Fee Stake: Corte
Fee Stake: Los Angeles
Smash and Grab
2x Go Anarch
Combat 25
4x High Ground
5x Collapse the Arches
2x Flow within the Mountain
3x Circle
4x Unflinching Persistence
4x Thrown Sewer Lids
3x Stunt Cycle
Equipment/Retainers 12
4x Razor Bats
2x Stolen Police Cruisers
3x IR Goggles
Jackie Therman
Ivory Bow
Flamethrower
Reaction 6
6x The Mole
I started playing this deck a bit. I found that I liked how the Razor Bats combined with the two weapons that produce aggravated damage to allow you to potentially burn minions. The other thing I noticed as I started playing is that, one you block a directed action at you and Collapse the Arches on someone, the table starts to leave you alone. This deck has enough pool gaining locations that, if they leave you alone, you start to gain an ungodly amount of pool. In one game I played with this version of the deck, I brought out Ferox no less than three times: the first one got burned, and the second one stolen. I was still able to get the table win because I had so much of a pool advantage from bloating off of my locations that the other player had to yield Ferox first and I won.
After feeling that the deck had some promise, I took out a lot of the votes because I noticed that most of the time I was just cycling through them anyway. The resulting deck is as follows:
Crypt
3xFerox
3xFerox Advanced
2xObsidian
Tommy
Raziya Samater
Hasina Kesi
Uriah Winter
Master Cards 24
Powerbase: Montreal
Powerbase: Chicago
Powerbase: Washington DC
Powerbase: Los Angeles x3
Blood Puppy
The Rack
6xGalaric's Legacy
Smiling Jack the Anarch
The Anarch Free Press
Hospital Food
Anarch Railroad
Fragment of the Book of Nod
Anarch Revolt x4
Fear of Mekhet
Actions 12
2xGo Anarch
2xArmy of Rats
2xSmash and Grab
The Status Perfectus
Fee Stake: Los Angeles
Fee Stake: Corte
2xFirebrand
Year of Fortune
Action Modifier 2
Kiss of Rax2
Combat 29
4xHigh Ground
4xUnflincing Persistance
4xCircle
2xFlow Within the Mountain
5xCollpase the Arches
2xShattering Blow
Rolling with the Punches
4xStunt Cycle
3xThrown Sewer Lid
Reaction 12
4xPatrol
8xThe Mole
Equipment & Retainers 11
Ivory Bow
Flamethrower
2xStolen Police Cruiser
3xRazor Bats
Jackie Therman
3xIR Goggles
This deck is a formidable wall deck and I have found it competitive. It's main problem is that it doesn't put forth a ton of forward pressure- Anarch Revolt, Army of Rats, Smiling Jack, and a bleed with a Stolen Police Cruiser are about all this deck is going to muster. But it does exert a study continual drain on your prey for 2-3 a turn once it gets going that wears him or her down over time.
The deck is vulnerable to fast, focused decks that attack before it gets a chance to set up as well as decks that can vote at more than +1 stealth. The Fear of Mekhet is in there because having Ferox PTO'd is never fun. Uriah Winter was a bit of an experiment- the deck uses both of his disciplines so I added him to the crypt. Playing a first turn Anarch Revolt of Powerbase: Montreal will allow you to bring out Uriah on Turn 1 without fear that your prey will steal him by not transferring anything. Other than that, you tend to have more pool than your prey, so Uriah stays resonably loyal. All the same, I wouldn't give him an Ivory Bow or anything.
III. Fiction - Short Story - Ferox Must Pay
When I asked her, my mother told me she believed in Jesus because Christianity promised that there would be justice after death. Now that I've been dead a good long while, I wrestle over whether I could tell her it was all a load of shit: I've found far more injustice after death than I ever dreamed off in my living years.
Now Buddism would tell me that we keep repeating existance over and over again until we get right whatever it is we are here for. That seems to make more sense to me, because in both my life and my unlife I have tried to overcome injustice but always seemed powerless to do so. I feel like a child fighting to keep from being molested by a large adult: in the end, no matter how hard I fight, I will always lose and we both know it.
Take today for instance. I was pretty sure when that arrow pierced my chest that I was a goner. I mean, Jesus H Christ that god damned thing hurt. I been hit with arrows before: it a common tactics for zealous vampire hunters because they figure a wooden arrow to the chest will do us in (it doesn't kill us, but it doesn't feel good either). Despite being dead, getting hit with arrows is never fun.
Today 's arrow made me wish for death. It felt like white hot heat radiating outwards from my chest. It was pain like getting your eardrum pierced with a red hot needle- that kinda ass-clenching, breath-taking, exquisite pain. Only thing is the damned thing didn't kill me, but I secretly prayed that it would. I hoped that somehow my Buddist Karma would finally be weighed in the balance and the universe would decide that I had failed so many times that it was time to punch my ticket and send me off to fertilize daisies for good. I felt that burning hit my chest and in that split second I though, "Finally I can die and be left alone."
But the universe once again rejected my death petition and send me back here- whereever here is. I don't want to open my eyes and look around because I can sense that I am being watched, so I take in what I can through my other senses (which have become increasingly powerful since I becamea vampire). I let out a conscious groan as I gather it all in. Figures it would be just my luck that instead of dying I wake up to find myself seated in from of some important looking jackoff- Camarilla by the look of him- who looks like he buys his suits from an Italian tailor operating out of a Chinesse silk factory. I don't want to come back to consciousness, but this asshole would have been perfectly content to wait there forever.
"You are a powerful kindred," he finally said. "Ferox barely escaped you."
"Apparently not powerful enough," I said. As we were now having a polite conversation I figured I had better sit up in my chair and take in the dickhead talking at me. I give him a good look. Carefully coifed hairdo, and I do believe the bastard has a manicure. His posture suggests he had a pole up his ass, so I have to assume that he is some bigwig in the Camarilla; bigwigs stand at attention when the hobnob with other bigwigs and decide who lives and dies. I'm not sure what this guy was expecting from me, but I've never been one to cow-tow and all that shit.
"You were dispatched by one of Ferox's subordinate. It is the dishonorable way that anarchs fight. They call it 'The Status Perfectus'."
"Pretentious Fuck!" I thought). I could tell by the way he accentuated each sylable that he was trying to impress me with is knowledge of Anarch society.
"So are you expecting me to kiss you ass now. You rescued me from the final death and I'm indebted to you forever. Is that it?"
"Well among civilized Kindred circles a life boon is typically worth at least a thank you."
"Welcome to LA motherfucker. We don't let the civilized shits like you in if we can help it."
He got a look on his face like a babysitter patiently enduring the tantrum of his ward because he knew he wouldn't get paid if he hit the little bastard. "We haven't been properly introduced. My name is Ulegh Beg. I am a Justicar of the Tremere clan. And you are?"
"Reilly. Doghouse Reilly."
The patient babysitter looked at me again. "Mister McNeil. I will once again indulge your disrespect, but a lie is a horrible way to start off our relationship." ("If you already knew who i was asshole, why did you ask?" I thought.)
"You may not believe this, but you are going to work with me. (Like hell.) The Camarilla is going to retake Los Angeles (Like Hell) and you are going to help me do it (Out of yo' fucking mind). Now, I have ways of making you serve me unwillingly as I'm sure you know. (Fucking mages.) But I hate to do that to you. (How compassionate). The passivity of a well-conditioned servant will never match the intensity of a true warriors spirit. (You ass kiss like a pro. Then again, as a Camarilla Justicar, you are a pro.) Besides, don't you want revenge against Ferox. (Ferox!) You may be incapable of gratitude, but I think you are still capable of vengance are you not." (Ferox. Son-of-a-bitch must pay!)
Rage was the only motivation I had anymore, and there were certain figures who never ceased to ignite the fires of rage inside of me: the asshole who made me a vampire (or my sire as the Camarilla bigwigs say), the old Prince of Los Angeles, my father, and now, Ferox. Each of these had earned the hatred I had stored up for them: my father by abusing my mother and then leaving her to raise a son alone; my sire by forcing this curse upon me and forcing me to destroy with my own hands the only woman I had ever really loved in my living years; the Prince of Los Angeles for killing the only vampire who ever showed me any kindness because he hadn't been properly "sired", and Ferox for betraying my trust.
"What are you offering me?" I said as I relished the idea of killing Ferox.
"You mean other than saving you from the final death? You presume to ask for more."
"You God damned right I do. Saving my ass wasn't an act of charity. You want something from me. Fine. You want me to kill Ferox. Fine. I want what's coming to me. And I want you to explain exactly what that is."
"Mr. McNell, you've had your fun. You and your anarch friends got to throw of the Camarilla and pretend that you were free for a while. But that party's going to end soon. Unless you help me, it will end with the death of a lot of people who followed you into rebellion. The Camarilla would like to offer the anarchs Writs of Acceptance -all past sins forgiven - if they will but pledge to uphold the traditons. Think about that Mr. McNeil. We'll wipe the slate clean and give you and all of your kind, a fresh start."
I knew better than to trust this guy. Vampires are evil by nature, and those who wield power in the Camarilla have all the evil you'd expect of a vampire combined with all the slippery diplomacy of a politician. But the truth is, I didn't really care what happened to me or my "anarch friends" as he put it. I just wanted to, for once, carry out my Karmic duty and right a wrong. I wanted to right a cosmic injustice and just once prevail. I wanted to pay Ferox back and Ulegh and I both knew I would do anything to do that. Still, all that time as Baron of Los Angeles had at least taught me something about negotiating.
"Under my authority."
"You presume to go from being Baron to being Prince? I can't offer that to you even if I wanted to. It's beyond my power. But I will say that the Brujah will need a primogen once the council is formed. That could very easily be you."
"So I kill Ferox, convince those anarchs who will listen to become good little camy vampires, and become Primogen. Is that it?"
"That's almost it, Mr. McNeil. Gwendolyn has taken a special interest in this situation. She has asked me to pass along to you that, if you prove yourself worthy to me, she will arrange for you to become a Brujah Archon with authority over the former California Free States."
"Primogen in LA, and Archon over California?"
"Yes, Mr. McNeil. If you prove yourself a worthy ally."
We both knew what I was gonna say. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. Doing so would just start a weeks long domiante session that would leave me with shit for brains. Besides, it was pretty generous. The Camarilla needed a front man here who knew the ropes and if it wasn't me, it would be someone else. But still, I hated this smug bastard, and he was reminding me of everything I hated about the Camarilla: their prissy tradtions and protocols and shit; what such a collection of assholes.
"So, Mr. McNeil, do we have a deal?"
"For now."
*****
One thing about my undead existance that doesn't suck is riding my Harley. My Fat Boy and I have had a relationship that started before I died, and I guess that makes me love it all the more. Of course, with 90 foot pounds of torque and 95 cubic inches of displacement, it loves me back. We look good together: me in my black leather motorcycle jacket and with it's polished silvery steel and shiny chrome- right down to the chrome rims on the wheels- we're just breathtaking. Kings used to have their royal carriages, I've got my Harley. With my supernaturally fast reflexs and precognitive abilities, I can ride it a hell of a lot harder now than ever. I always rode fast, but now I can blaze through busy intersections doing 90. It's quite a rush. I especially love the look on the drivers faces as I clear the front of their oncoming cars with just a couple of inches to spare and then manage to do it to the next car in line. My Harley is the only thing I can really say I love anymore.
I always think better when I'm riding; no matter what the problem I seem to find the solution out somewhere between the 10 and the 635. When I became Baron, I spent a lot more time looking for solutions to our problems out there than I did schmoozing it up, and with good reason: the Sabbat, the East Kindred, the Lupines, the Camarilla. Shit, a month didn't go by that some new groups tentacles didn't seem to be wrapping themselves around the city, and these problems couldn't be solved holding court with all the people lining up to blow me. We all knew that sooner or later we were going to have to join forces with someone just to stay alive. I guess that's why I allowed Ferox to get away with so much for so long: I needed a powerful friend right then who would allow the anarchs to remain free and he seemed to be the one Kindred who could solve all my problems.
Ferox proved to be as powerful as he was ugly, and he was one ugly son of a bitch: his baggy elephantine skin hung loosely off of his his gruesome snout-like face; his speech was more akin to the croaking of a frog. Ferox possessed many Kindred powers, but unnatural persuasion was not among them. I suppose I was deceived by his appearance and solitary nature because he seemed like the last kindred in the world who would try to usurp my power.
We had a good working relationship really: he produced results and I rewarded him. When Ferox's patrol uncovered and then repelled a Sabbat war party raiding the city, I gave him the exclusive use of the best feeding ground (or Rack) that Los Angeles had to offer. Things continued on like this for many months. Ferox continued proving himself and I continued rewarding him with more power. This was how Ferox built his powerbase in the city.
It had all seemed quite right and natural at the time. It was only later, when I discovered that Ferox was somehow also maintaining powerbases in both Washington DC and Chicago, that I began to feel that perhaps this ugly motherfucker was acquiring a bit too much power for his own good. But, by the time I discovered this, he had become so integral a part of the Los Angeles anarachs that I couldn't act against him. The Anarch Free States are not like a Camy or Sabbat city: the Prince can't just kick you out because he decides he doesn't need you anymore. Like it or not, I was stuck with him.
As the months drug on, he seemed to acquire more and more power that was rightfully mine. Uriah has been the first kindred to openly follow Ferox in during the anarch rants, but others were not far behind. Soon they were calling for Ferox to be recognized as heir apparent to the Barony of Los Angeles. I had seen that had seen that coming, but frankly I was more than willing to let the title go at that point. I got into the political game to end abuses of power, not instigate my own. If the LA Anarchs favored him, I was not going to stand in their way, and, for all their tough talk of rugged individualism, the LA Anarchs were as whiny as they come. I was sick of dealing with them.
It wasnt until I found out that Ferox had allyed himself with Smiling Jack the Anarch, that I knew we were all gonna die. All Anarchs are universally loathed, but we never seem to be worth the trouble of dealing with because we aren't part of any larger organized body that the Camies and the Sabbat see as a threat. Smiling Jack, however, was so hated by everyone for his ability to stir up trouble indiscriminately for others, that he was impossible for them to ignore. His message - we are all pawns in the hands of the Methusilahs and we must rise up and fight against them- when combined with his charisma and presence never failed to stir the hearts of who listened. As such, Jack was continually on the run - looking for someone foolish enough to provide safe haven for him so that he could continue his anarchist work. To rebel and declare that Los Angeles belonged to those strong enough to take it was one thing, but to attempt to incite revolt in the other cities of the Camarilla and Sabbat was suicide; it would surely allow our enemies to put aside their collective differences until Jack and all those who harbored him were dealth with.
The reckless irresponsibility of Feroxs actions suddenly made my blood boil. All at once I was aflame thinking about he had betrayed my kindness, stole my title, and now endangered the lives of all of us. He had to be stopped and there was no one else prepared to do it. It had to be me; I was sure of that.
Maybe driving out there alone wasn't the wisest thing to do, but we Brujah have never been known for our careful planning when we are furious. I closed in on the Crystal Garden Casino in Compton, where, I was told, Ferox was hiding Jack. Like a cancer, the casino had seemed to only grow ugly and more massive as it swelled on the lost wages of the surrounding community. It was a tick, with its head burrowed into the earth draining the life from this city's inhabitants nightly; it was like me that way and that made me hate it all the more. The casino would die with Jack, of that I was sure. Hell, the way I felt that night, I might have to die too.
I slowed down to a leisurely 50 miles an hour as I crused the surface streets and scanned the rooftops with my undead vision. I knew Ferox would be somewhere close: he wouldn't leave Jack's protection to someone else. Then I say the familiar siloutte of him against the darker night sky as well as the outline of several smaller winged shapes- the bats that seems to accompany him everywhere.
*****
Ferox saw Jeremy and his cycle tearing through the opening gate of the fenced casino parking lot. Although not entirely clear on what Jeremy had intended, he knew that such a brazen intrusion must have indicated that he was after Jack, and that was something Ferox could not allow. Ferox and the Razor bats who flew with him dipped their wings in unison and began a sudden, violent dive. As he fell with ever increasing speed, Ferox mentally plotted the exact angle he would need to hit the huge stone arch that that hung over into order to cover Jeremy in the rubble of the arches Ferox was now plummeting towards. He hit them just right to send a cascade of large, concrete fragments hurtling towards Jeremy's speeding form which was some buried under an avalanche of concrete.
Ferox smiled to himself as he landed. "Oh how the mighty have fallen my former rival," Ferox chuckled as he surveryed the pile of rubble. Ferox surveryed the glorious chaos in the parking lot where as his razor bats harassed the onlookers; the city was his now and he was free to do as he chose with its inhabitants. But something was wrong Ferox realized as the clouds of swirling concrete dust subsided. There was no body undernearth all the rubble.
Ferox turned to see a completely untouched Jeremy McNeil advancing silently on his motorcycle towards him. "Trickery and illusions do not become a warrior," Ferox challenged as he spread his wings.
Jeremy did not reply verbally but instead gunned his cycle towards Ferox. He could feel his undead muscles swell with blood as vitae flowed to them in anticipation of their use. The time of the challenge was at hand.
Jeremy lept from the back of the speeding cycle onto the form of Ferox and clutched his wings in his hands to keep him from flying off. Ferox closed his arms around Jeremy as the two immortals grappeled like Herceles wressling death itself. Jeremy's fisted pounded into Ferox's steely flesh in a blur of speed and power that sent deafening shocks echoing across the parking lot. Ferox's stony hid protected him from being rended limb from limb by Jeremy's assault, but the very force of the blows sent him sailing back into a car.
Jeremy was right on top of him, raining down his fists as he gave into blind fury. Jeremy knew that he was in a killing position now: Ferox couldn't fly away and Jeremy's strength and superhuman speed would allow him to rip him to shreads in the blink of an eye. He channeled all of the rage he had stored up from a lifetime of abuse at the hands of his sire, his former Prince, his father, and now this ugly bastard. Someone was going to pay.
It was only after he broke entirely through the parking lot's blacktop that he noticed that Ferox was no longer there. Jeremy pushed aside his rage as he surveyed the pot hole he had just made. There simply not seem to be any trace of Ferox. Gradually, as Jeremy looked on the man made stone with his astrally keen sense he began to realize that somehow Ferox had melded with this stone and flowed out of his very grasp.
Despite Jeremy's super human senses and unnatural speed, he did not see the arrow that was slicing through the night in his direction. He just felt it pierce him. He knew at once that it was an unnatural arrow sent from a very unique bow as he felt its eldrich energy's sear through him. He felt burned from the inside out as his consciousness slipped from him.
"The Status Perfectus," Uriah muttered to himself hefting the Ivory bow in his graps, "Ferox will owe me for this."
****
Ulegh stared intently at Jeremy, reading from his mind every last detail of his fight with Ferox before asking, "So, Mr. McNeil, the Camarilla, of which you are now a part, can not take back Los Angeles without first removing Ferox and Smiling Jack. Finding those two should be easy, but removing Ferox will prove difficult. He is immune to my powers of blood magic. I will assist you in any way I can, but I know from prior experience that even submachine gun bursts seems to bounce off of his hide. Is there anything that you would recommend that I do to help you defeat him."
"Yea," Jeremy said, "Pray."