Leandro Iskeen

Name: Leandro Iskeen
Age: 220
Apparent Age: 24
Height: 5’2”
Weight: 135 lbs
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Brownish grey

Clan: Assamite
Generation: 8th
Nature: Celebrant
Demeanor: Survivor
Concept: Content murderer
Sire: Isheen Amahar

Strength: 5
Dexterity: 5
Stamina: 4

Charisma: 2
Manipulation: 3
Appearance: 3

Perception: 4  - Tactical
Intelligence: 2
Wits: 4  - Change in strategy


Alertness: 4 - Hidden weapons
Athletics: 4 - Parkour
Awareness: 0
Brawl: 3
Empathy: 0
Expression: 1
Intimidation: 3
Leadership: 0
Streetwise: 0
Subterfuge: 3

Animal Ken: 0
Crafts: 0
Drive: 1
Etiquette: 3
Firearms: 2
Larceny: 4
Melee: 5 - knives
Performance: 0
Stealth: 5 - shadowing
Survival: 0

Academics: 1
Computer: 1
Finance: 0
Investigation: 3
Law: 1
Medicine: 0
Occult: 1
Politics: 0
Science: 0
Technology: 1 - security

Disciplines
Celerity 4
Obfuscate 4
Quietus 2
Potence 1
Protean 1

Backgrounds
Alternate Identity 2
Contacts 2
Domain 2 (1 normal, 1 security)
Generation: 1
Mentor 3
Resources 2
Retainer 1 - Alice. Oh no, wait, Alice is no longer with us and Samuel replaced her. Good lad. Still a bit confused by it all. He’ll be fine.
Status 2

Virtues
Conscience: 2
Self-Control: 4
Courage: 4

Humanity: 6
Willpower: 8

Weakness:
Tremere blood-curse, should an Assamite consume the blood of another Kindred, she suffers one automatic level of unsoakable lethal damage per blood point imbibed. Diablerie = very bad idea. Assamites must tithe some of the profits from their contracts to their sires or superiors (generally around 10 percent of all such earnings).

Appearance:
While he can obediently dress nicely and appear quite civilised by modern standards, he much prefers relaxing when amongst those who are alike. Even though those might, of course, be just as dangerous to his health as outsiders, and there’s never a true lowering of his defences. Unless, perhaps, when near his sire and even then only during certain times and places where not lowing defences would be more dangerous than lowering them. But that’s rare and not truly bothersome. And his sire doesn’t care how he dresses as long as he doesn’t make a fool of himself or causes embarrassments with the way he looks, so that works out just fine.

While his outfit can change drastically depending on the circumstances, his body remains well-toned and graceful. He rarely bothers hiding his deadly grace with clumsy movements or uncertain posturing, but also doesn’t show off his muscles with tight clothes that are meant to draw attention. He is quite fine with being ignored and would rather lean back and observe than indulge in mindless chatter with outsiders. There are certainly benefits to mingling among the prey, and he doesn’t disagree with those who use such methods, but most of the time he simply doesn’t care.

Background:
“You want to know where and who I’ve been? Well, that is just a terribly dull question. It’s far more enjoyable to focus on what the near future will bring us and how to get closer to the next kill. No? You insist? I suppose I have some time to kill and if you’re certain you wish to spend it on such an uninteresting topic… still? All right then.

“I was born ages ago, centuries to be more precise, in times when people were shorter, lives were shorter and days were longer if you didn’t mind walking around in the dark. I very much was one of those people, which probably played a part in dying and coming back. You do know about that whole issue, yes? I don’t have much time for those who get all squeamish about the finer details of that delightfully bloody mess. Don’t give me that look. You’re the one who insist on wasting our time with things that really don’t matter as much as you think they do.

“So after my delightful sire decided that I should no longer feel obligated to walk under the smothering sun… what you do mean, before then? You’re really focusing on all the wrong things, but sure, let me spin you a tale of a young Spanish athlete who managed to turn everyone’s comments about unhealthy obsession into grudging admiration, or at least some acceptance of just having foolish dreams that could never be, by passionately explaining about one day joining the Olympics and competing at that highest standard.

“Why yes, the Olympics were all but forgotten until the end of 19th century when they were brought back from the historical version of slumbering death. Do you think I’m older than that? Well, then perhaps I should give you the tale of a hunter who was too determined to track down the wrong prey and ended up working for someone with an odd sleeping habit until he was deemed worthy. You don’t believe that? Good, that shows you at least have some sense despite odd fixations.

“Ah, is that a flicker of annoyance I see? A hint of emotion before it was successfully squashed? There’s no real need for that, because I’m not playing with you. You’ve simply given me no good reason to indulge your curiosity in such a boring subject. And truthfully it doesn’t matter. Whether I was a thief, butcher, hunter, soldier, nightwatch, servant, courier or a fellow who banged on people’s houses to wake them up, there’s nothing there that will allow you to spin a tale that is meant to indicate some alikeness or difference that you can use to your advantage.

“I’m a professional and either you don’t know how to talk to someone like me, or you do know and decided that this was the best option to accomplish your goal. Frankly, I don’t care. If you’re determined to know more about my past then either come up with a much better incentive or talk to my sire. I’m sure that would make for a delightful conversation.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, one of my contacts has just arrived and that one will either have delightful information that will bring me closer to my goal, or an amusing lack of information that will make the chase even sweeter. Do find some other way to spend this dreadful waiting time instead of following or trying to eavesdrop. You’re not invited to my little talk with the fellow and it’s best to keep our relationship… courteous. Trust me on that.”