In fact, I think I am Toronto. I embody a chaotic force of this city that will never subside and I kinda like that. Isabella may make rules, Dieter runs his Tremere with precision, but I have them all beat. No responsibility or expectations to drag me down. I can watch them all get chipped away by the chisels of the city's strain, carving them into what they aren't.

I've learned that immortality without freedom is a joke. But, no one else seems to be laughing...

And now, to give my readers some perspective on Toronto's history, I'm going to profile the city's most interesting and entertaining kindred (and a couple that aren't residing within this city's borders, but deserve special notice). Careful readers will be able to discern much from the following text, while the rest of you will let a wealth of information seep through your fingers.

Justicar Lord Pale De'ath

Never start small, that's my motto! Pale and I go waaay back. When I first arrived at the Toronto Elysium, Roland was Prince of Toronto and Pale was still a Primogen! (it's true, he wasn't always the Grand Batman of them all) Since those days of yore, Pale has moved his way up the Camarilla's pyramid scheme all the way up to Grand Spanker for the Big Boys. He travels the world righting wrongs (real or imagined by his superiors) and decides the fate of tiled floors through harsh Conclaves. In all seriousness, Pale is a kindred worthy of respect (Majesty just does that) and you would be well to steer from this one's path. Any dirt I have about Casa Loma's owner, I keep close to my chest, as it may save my undead ass at the next Conclave.

Isabella Munroe

Another big biscuit, Isabella was a dear friend and amusing target, all at the same time. Without her constant entertainment, I doubt I could have stayed within Toronto's borders so long without causing more damage. Not that being stabbed in the back and cared for all at the same time is unorthodox from this one.

Though flighty, her ability to bring the city to order (?) and drag a Prince-Killing sop around with her was truly worthy of respect (though it did lead to her downfall). I'm sure RTK, her mentor and love, would have been proud of her city of York. Grand York, peaceful with the Sabbat, snubbed by the Camarilla and played with by all the Non-Aligned clans of the world. It's a tough job being Prince (I would know) and I wished her alot of luck (nothing else seems to work). Unfortunately, she's joined the rest of Toronto's elite, long gone to ash. It's a thin line between love and hate my dear...

David St.Joan

The many sides of David, former superstar Keeper of Elysium in Toronto. The only nice Tremere you'll ever meet (or is that sincere Tremere?). David is a man of honor, respect and dignity; Therefore, he's a fugitive from all the other Tremere in the world. He left just after I became Prince and I never got to tell him how important he was in keeping the city sane. The only bad thing I could ever say about David is that at his worst, he could be occasionally gullible (never give a gun to a psycho) and at his best he truly was a Saint. Run free my friend, we'll meet at the end of the tour.

Calvin

Calvin, a dear part of my family before the Grand Switcheroo (if you don't know, I can't tell you). Calvin has currently flown the coop and is nowhere to be found. The first real madness I ever encountered, Calvin is as entertaining as he is unmanagable. Without his guidance, I may never have become the great shit disturber that has emerged under his tutelage. The owner of the first Grand Fish and Father of the Family that always stuck together, Calvin should be treated as the rogue that he is. The island is always open to you, my pal.

Echo

Bow low, Echo was the first true elder of Toronto and wielded his power well. A Prince, a regent and the first kindred to demand respect out of true fear. Fire leapt from his fingertips and the rumours made him seem unstoppable. When he left, a guiding hand of the city left as well and it's never been the same since. Not that we never had our problems, he and I. I remember sitting on his knee and being tortured with a flaming palm after Flavius' torpored body had disapperaed. Ah yes, the memories... Anyways, Echo's the Man and wherever he is now is being played by him just as well as TO was.

Sergeant T-Man

This loose cannon had a purpose that only he must have understood, because the rest of us thought he was just crazy. Violent, ill-mannered and loaded to the teeth with weapons. He was a Brujah Dream Team all by himself and of course died stupidly when the Sabbat came, as every good Brujah would have it.

Darien Campbell

Darien was an enigma. Violent, brash, his blood flows through my veins only through a fluke. It's incredible to think that he could've raised two good childer from such a depressing gene pool. If you had to say something good about the old bean, it was that he had guts. Those same guts were spread all over the base of the CN Tower, but they were guts nonetheless.

Wilde

Wilde went from stereotypical Toreador to schemer of the first rank. After meeting Cortez for dinner and duping the Razor Children into servitude, Toronto's blood silly Gigolo has done it again and is now occupying land near and dear to us. Watch your back, my kindred. His intentions are unclear, but they will always benefit him at the detriment of all others. We'll have a good talk, the Wilde one and I...

Lucien Layfay

Lucien and I have seen the city of Toronto shift before our undead eyes. Back in the days of Prince Echo, we schemed and played with kindred like Flavius or David St.Joan. Now, things have drastically changed.

The boy pledged fealty to me when I became Prince of Toronto and his sporatic loyalty kept me on my toes. Supposedly, he kept me alive after being staked in the back by Isabella and Kamen, but that's just speculation. What I do know is that he's seen the "light (?)" and is now running Sabbat-side and seems to be happy doing it. I have respect for anyone who can survive as long as this sewer dweller. If you're messing with him, make sure it's worth the reward.

Lucien Hawke

As far as stereotypical Toreador go, he's pretty good. Regards the Camarilla as an art faux-pas, I guess. Popular amongst the kine, but what do they know anyhow? Beneath that cliche exterior is a real brain (rare, but true). Pushes Anarch rights and lefts and uppercuts. Discussions about sects or art are always good ways to get some stimulating conversation.

Dieter Halsten

Dieter is such a fanatical Tremere that you know he's got be entertaining. Loves standing up for his own opinions, even when they're so obviously a joke. In all seriousness, Dieter is probably the second or third most powerful kindred in Toronto. Acts very nice in Elysium, rarely even raising his voice. But you know he's gotta be doing the real nasty shit under deep cover. He knows the Tremere credo inside out: "Bathe in shit, but come out smelling like a rose..."

Alex South

• Act nice, but be ruthless.
• Cater to the powerful, whip the weak.
• Be Ventrue.
• Kiss Camarilla ass.

Sagat Rook

Back when he was in Toronto, Sagat was a classy Toreador, who played games by pretending to be a Malkavian. Although he shifted to the Sabbat for a while, he flipped them all the bird and is now hated by pretty much everyone. Not someone you want everyone to know you know, if you know what I mean. His kid's kid, Alixander is currently in Toronto spouting prose at us all. You can make fun of him for taking the name Rook if you feel you must.

John MacClaren

John first came into the Elysium of Toronto intent on killing his sire. Since then, he's reformed to just a parttime homicidal maniac. If you're looking for stimulating talk or perhaps a scheme to whisk the night away, search no further. The unfortunate death of Rachael made me worry that this boy wouldn't be able to hack the social side of kindredness, but he's come out just fine. Maybe some day he can take care of new Malkavians, just as Rachael "took care of" him.

Beverley

Roses are red,
Beverly's dead,
Sometimes the guilt,
Weighs down on my head.
I kept him away,
In a garden to play,
Then Damien found him,
To make a better way.

Randolph Pike

Randolph made the mistake of fucking with Robert the Kent before he could ready himself for the repercussions. Once he got the Crown of Dark Tarot (if you don't know what it is, I'll try and explain some other time), the ensuing Majesty went right to his head. With too many eggs in one basket, the resulting smear was big and gooey. I respected him for having a spine worthy of Alex, and an enthusiasm for big plans. His last wish to me was for a memorial, and I think the marble buffness adds to his legend.

Shamus LeKleo

Perception is far more powerful than reality. That is the only rule.

Prince Sid

When you get a guy who was this feared, you just know he's taken the soul-sucking plunge. At the Conclave, he artfully dodged all repercussions of such a deed and then beat the shit out of any one who suspected him. He was believed pretty much unstoppable until a pack of werewolves made him into fertilizeer. Of course, I never believe that anyone's dead until there's a body (except where Baker's involved, in which case you can never know for sure).

Baker

Baker is an enigma. Savior to some, Meglomaniac of the highest order to most others. I knew Baker in much calmer times, when he used to just stab himself repeatidly for a good high. He was part of a tight-knit group of Malkavians who understood loyalty and trust, even when you didn't always get along. I miss having people that close to rely on. Needless to say, something happened after he left Toronto and the next thing we knew, he'd begun a cult (I affectionately call them Bakerites) and blew up a good chunk of Berlin. When Archons tailed him all over the world and thought they'd killed him, he found a way to survive and continued his reign of terror. As recently as last week, a Kindred claiming to be the childe of Baker caused mayhem and destruction in Waterloo. Once again, this Kindred was supposedly destroyed, but with the body gone missing, nothing is for sure.

Even if he is dead, his cult and copy-cat killers will make sure that the fear he inspired never ends. I have respect for longevity... however twisted it may be.

Andrew Shade

An information hound of the highest order, Andrew was my Nosferatu Primogen. He was Robert the Kent's childe and took liberties with his Pop's old stomping grounds. In the end, he pryed too much and was killed in a bizarre turn of events. When an investigation began and his spirit was summoned, nothing was to be found. A victim of diablerie, the diabolist was never punished (although he or she did get away and never came back to Toronto).

Santino

When we made our big push to take back the downtown core, he was ambushed and diablerised by one of his prisoners. In the ensuing chaos, very few saw what really happened and who made the soul-stealing bite on the Warden. If I saw, my lips are sealed, because there's no point in incriminating someone with so much influence within the city. It's bad politics.

Angela Giovanni

Going from a close advisor, to a constant point of contraversy, Angela vanished after a bizarre plot against Prince Isabella with Lucien Layfay. An investigation began soon after headed by her relatives. It seemed that she was diablerized, because no spirit could be summoned. In the end Giovanni and friends wrapped it all up and my lips are sealed, until they decide to devulge their findings.

John Prosser

Kamen

Kamen single-handedly confronted Robert the Kent about his supposed ties to the Sabbat. Rather than show any proof, the two duked it out in honorable combat to settle their differences. The result: Robert was dusted and Toronto's history was forever changed. In other words, the most wise Primogen council had to elect the next Prince of Toronto, ME. Oh well, that's a tale for another time.

Needless to say, Kamen is one tough lad. Not someone you want to let get a bear hug on you. Although he was once considered Isabella's favorite bruiser, he's currently been resigned to just being an all around bruiser.

Lance Terrace

Lance and I have always had our differences. Thinking himself a tactician, Lance always waded into the thick of things. His Sire, a former Archon, had kind of a tough-love for his boy and the two resented each other.

Me thinks that Lance ain't too humane anymore, as the last few years have been unkind to his morals. (Am I really one to talk, though...) Ah well, Lance was on the safe side of the Sabbat's prison when it popped up. Last I heard he was in Ottawa, trying to make me look bad and poo-poo Toronto because we don't grant him the respect that he thinks he deserves doing nothing.

The Franchise Bandit

The Bandit's random acts of charity/violence/vandalism have caused some to call him hero, others a madman. Either way, it's fine entertainment all around. It's strange that we haven't heard from him in a while. The last word was that he or she was searching for a sidekick. Although, his constant references to Niktuku have got me wondering...

Marie

Marie was a cherished doll that the Family of Malkavs created in May of '95. Her mad ramblings and random violence belayed her real sensitive side. Calvin and I tried to keep her out of trouble and all of the Family considered her the Queen. It harkens me back to a simpler time, when having fun was easy and politics were far away.

After trouble broke out over Eaton, her Gargoyle friend, she had to leave and hasn't returned, except for a brief spat with Robert the Kent. I wonder where she is and why she hasn't come to see her "Poppa", but know that we will always have the chaos we created then.

Phish

When the Razor Children petitioned Robert the Kent for a safe place to stay away from their Sabbat captors, Robert gave them Parkdale as domain. At the Conclave, after Robert's death, Phish represented his people before the chancellors of the Camarilla.

Phish is the guy you can rely on if he's with you, or one you should be afraid of if he's not. He and his clanmates fought off the Sabbat in Parkdale with Wilde and I'm unsure if he survived. Although the Razor Children are harsh and unruly, they are fair if given respect. Phish was quick to judge and when we parted company, his opinion of me remained jaded.

Kree

A fine Malkavain in the beginning, Kree degenerated quickly after the Family of Malkavs fell apart. He was captured by Lucien Layfay (then, the Sheriff) on charges of torturing kine, including killing a pregnant woman and embracing the unborn child. I wish Dr. Zangel was around back then. Maybe he could have helped the boy before he went over the deep end.

Mr.Summers

Summers could nail down Traditions breakers before you could say "bloody hell". Summers loved to hate me and beat me soundly whenever I got in his way. I think it was the only form of compassion the man ever knew, as a swift strike to the midsection probably produced the same amount of emotion as his own mother dying. Elyisum was fun, but never got out of hand thanks to his booming voice and twin machine guns.

Although he was supposedly killed by a bomb laid for him by Kyle, I never believed it. Somewhere out there, I know that he's waiting for the perfect opportunity to return to the city that loved him and restore order like a grand cowboy of old.

Just think of a sly, smirking british guy holding two machine guns and remarking: "If yu dun't move, yu fakking wanker, I'll blow your fakking 'ead off."

Memories flood back so suddenly as I type these....

This place housed some of the most memorable Kindred Toronto has ever known. Echo and Gnoll rubbed shoulders (before Gnoll mysteriously died) and the words on everyone's lips were "Dark Tarot" and "Pentex".

The piercing sound of Pale D'Eath's call to his fellow Toreadors "Oh, dahlings!" would shock many of the Justicar's biggest fans now. It was a much more homogeneous environment, where blatant frenzies were a rarity and the Camarilla ruled absolute.

We inadvertantly let loose Sasha, a powerful Kindred who could have destroyed us all and had to enact a ritual to bind her (later, we would be forced to do it again).

Although Non-Camarilla clans visited Death In The Underground, there was never the kind of mish-mash melting pot we have now. Maybe one Ravnos, or a Giovanni graced Death's doorway, nothing more.

The elders of Toronto seemed much more removed from the neonates. There was a much more definate power structure and everyone knew their place. The minor quibbling over status that we carry now and cries of anarch would have sickened the original Primogen council which held this city together. All of them have faded away, with little more than memories of their passing to remind me.

Damn, I'm sinking into memories best left buried. Although all of you have extreme opinions of me, you cannot know how different things were back then. Faces you can never see in my mind had a much more solid foundation than the crumbling towers which we've built since. The Clans were concrete in their purpose and we all knew our place.

My friends' lives were shattered in the months that followed. Alex South was destroyed, Marian and Sagat corrupted, my beloved Kathryne sacrificed and McCloud undone. The city unravelled quicker than we could have imagined, and it never regained its balance.

The Kindred of this city have arrived in waves, as the neonates come and the older Kindred climb up the ladder until their destruction. I do not know how high my own ladder stretches, but I have become an unofficial chronicler of this city's turbulent past.

If knowledge is power, I feel weighted by the lore that the deceased have passed on.

This Guide has been a joke at times. I have tried to convey a humour to my thoughts on the many things that make up this city. But, it is not pointless. I am the last link to this past and once it passes on, once I pass on, it is lost and the neonates will trudge through this city not knowing of the mistakes made before, or how to stop them.

Strange, I'm not prone to fits of melancholy...

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