For the purposes of our game, it doesn't really matter what real-life location the City is supposed to represent. The domain's Kindred simply call their gilded cage 'Polis', 'Urbs', or ‘The City’ as if there couldn't be any other. 

It is located somewhere in Europe; has shades of both Rome and Constantinople in its backstory, though some of the characters' tales were imagined to be set against the backdrop of Amsterdam, Paris, Berlin, Prague, or London. 

It is at once ancient and all about tonight. It flaunts glorious palaces of centuries past, while concrete housing projects condemn their occupants to cycles of squalour and violence. It encourages innovation and yet is steeped in stifling tradition. It is beautifully multi-cultural and harshly xenophobic. It is blindingly rich and devastatingly poor.

This is Babylon reborn. Not the real place - the feverish imagination stirred by that loaded word. You don't live there. It possesses you. Its houses are its body, its streets are veins. You vibrate with the pulse of its iron heart. And all the mortals moving by are red, hot blood.

The City is very old. Founded by Roman conquerors who built their fortifications on the remaining settlements of brutally subjugated native tribes, it grew to be a well-fortified major mediaeval metropolis that was a major nexus of trade and politics. 

Its real heyday came during the Renaissance, when, as a City State, it became a center of learning, first through the powerful patronage of the Church and then, when it opened its world famous university that still attracts the brightest minds from all over the world. 

Its populace decimated during the ravages of the Thirty Years War, many of its structures canonaded or burned, the City was almost entirely reconstructed, allowing for territorial growth and inviting waves of immigration by people persecuted and displaced in other realms. 

The City flowered during the Age of Enlightenment, becoming the capital of the nation, but the injustices committed by a decadent and cruel aristocratic elite against the increasingly poor and desperate commoners whose labour upheld their reign led to a bloody revolution that ended with the institution of a republic. 

Under the new parliamentarian system and with reformed laws a new, powerful merchant class replaced the nobility of yore with a bourgeois conservatism and a captitalist outlook. The City experienced an explosion of its population of the working poor during the Industrial Revolution, swallowing villages and towns all around it to make room for cheap housing,  factories, storage and power plants. 

Heavily damaged by occupying forces, air raids and shelling during both World Wars, the City was once more rebuilt into one of the major international centres of politics, commerce and culture, while also having an abnormally high rate of violent drug-related and politically-motivated crimes.

Home to nearly 20 million mortals, these days, the City it is one of Europe's most densely populated urban areas, a melting pot of immigrant communities from many countries, and home to a proud and diverse LGBTQ+ community.

During the late 20th and early 21st century the City has become one of the go-to places on many people's bucket list. 

Ever since becoming a host to Olympic Games and some major sporting events, a wave of gentrification has hit the city that made living barely affordable for many communities, the local government seeming to give up any real efforts beyong keeping a lid on the ever-growing problems.

A surfeit of surveillance and police activity has raised concerns, especially when it comes to the copious data collection, use and sharing both by the private sector and government agencies. 

The lockdown measures to combat the health crisis of recent years have turned many parts of the City into a pressure cooker, with a noticeable increase in domestic violence and civil disturbances. 

All of the city is threatened by government overreach and corporate greed, but the minority populations are especially imperiled by the rising spectre of nationalist sentiments in populist politics, especially the proto-fascist 'Our Way' party, who promise easy solutions and are on their way to win the upcoming elections.

Not many Kindred survive who witnessed the foundation of the domain. Of those, all know better than to talk about those troubling times. Sometimes there are rumours about important events, often bereft of context, or sounding more like propaganda than record keeping.

All would agree that among the first Kindred to come to the City were the Lord and the Lady, two mysterious ancient beings who seem to be locked in an never-ending stand-off fueled by a hatred so intense it has survived millenia.

Perhaps the fall of the Dream inspired their enmity, as the great refugee crisis after the fall of Constantinople conincided with their arrival, though some whisper that they are far older and that the Golden City had been just the latest battleground of their intrigues before they had been forced to relocate.

Neither of them ever were personally in power, though. Instead over the next few centuries a quick succession of proxy rulers fought for the throne in their name, leaving the domain in a constant state of civil war among the Kindred.

Princees came and went, the works of those mighty forgotten by time, or, more often, falling to damnatio memoriae enacted by their successors, who, in turn, were erased. History, as ever, is written by the victors.

This all changed with the coup that brought the Brujah Therion to the throne. An intensely charismatic and utterly inhuman Kindred possessed of unbridled passions, dark hedonism and a gift for the dark arts brought the warring Kindred population to heel.

Therion proved a bloody tyrant and a deeply corrupt one at that, but their talent for politics kept them in power: Playing favourites against each other, issueing backhanded gifts, using bread and circuses, and instilling the paranoid fear of informants. 

Bribery, blackmail and violence are par for the course in Kindred society. But Therion's baroque court raised cruelty and intrigue to an art form. 

It was during this era that the two great ancients withdrew from their active participation in society. It seemed that time had finally taken its toll and they succumbed to the deathless sleep of torpor.

The end of Therion's reign came at the end of the 18th century with the arrival of the Ventrue Dominique, a Camarilla Justicar, sent to investigate allegations illicit practices leveled against the Prince, after the whistleblower, the Toreador elder Virginia, had died under mysterious circumstances. 

Their findings about what truly went on behind the walls of the Old Castle, the manor where Therion resided, would have put Gilles de Rais to shame.

The ruler and his inner circle of cronies seemed to have a penchant for recreational diablerie, turning humans just to torture and devour them. They participated in dark rites based on Sabbat heresies. And they called upon spirits, using unspeakably vile sorceries to spy on, curse and otherwise influence the Kindred and mortal population, covering up their constant Masquerade breaches through constant murder and intimidation of witnesses. It seemed only a question of time, until Hunters would pick up the trail.

At least, that's the story that was told when Dominique issued their verdict. The Prince and the Justicar fought each other in a long and bloody battle that only ended with Therion's destruction. It is said, that with their dying word's the fallen ruler cursed their nemesis to see everything they called theirs fall to ashes.

Whether Dominique believed Therion, no one has recorded. Stepping down from their duties as Justicar, they took up the mantle of Prince, declaring their intention to become a good steward to their new domain, rebuilding what had been lost, righting the wrongs of their predecessor. 

Dominique purged the old guard, such as the Brujah Elsa, the Malkavian Lenore, the Nosferatu Mathieu, and the Tremere Gwylim, elimating the clique of elders who had supported their predecessor, while pardoning those who had merely served the system if they bent the knee. They also elevated those who had sided with them during the nights of conflict. From this generation of ancillae rose the elders of the present nights, the courtiers: Endymion, Frances, Meredith, Nicola, and Wynne.

Change was gradual and did not come easy but step by step the court changed to be more in line with the avowedly Camarilla-orthodox ideals of Dominique and their rather humane outlook. They created a by no means free but far more truly participatory all-night society.

After a century of rule, Dominque began to think of their posterity and began to build a legacy of childer, a line of their own. The attempt proved tragic, however, as progeny after progeny of the Prince died young, often horribly, and inexplicably, as if someone were going after them. Or, perhaps, as if Therion's curse proved to be real.

It was at the end of World War II, with the death of their latest childe, Antoine, that Dominique had finally had enough. Not only did they cease any attempt at procreation, the ruination of Kindred society during the bombing of the City and the uncontrolled violations of Tradition, including many unsanctioned creations, led them to issue a general moratorium on the embrace.

For decades, Kindred society had come to a grinding halt as everybody licked their wounds and rebuilt their havens. With no new Kindred being allowed to be turned, the Prince began to foster those orphaned Kindred who were without guidance.

They also welcomed an influx of newcomers to bolster the diminished ranks of the undead towards the end of the Cold War, leading to a very heterogenous population of backgrounds and beliefs, and a loosening of the social order.

Around the turn of the millenium, after long bouts of absence where they had left things to their officers, the Prince took up the reigns again. The new court began to take on increasingly religious, even theocratic undertones. During their seclusion, Dominique had evidently done a lot of soul searching and began to take a more active interest in the spiritual unlives of their subjects.

It is rumoured that the Lord and the Lady have returned from torpor as well, beginning to rebuild their networks of influence in the shadows. Perhaps they have heard the call of the Beckoning and wish to settle their affairs and move on. Perhaps they have a more sinister purpose in mind.

The Prince usually holds court at the Civic Centre, a massive factory building from the time of the Industrial Revolution that has been renovated with glass and steel constructions to become the City's primary public event venue.

While vampires hunt everywhere in the overcrowded streets of the city, there are several venues where they are usually drawn to. These areas are considered Elysium, so all Kindred may feed and conduct their business in peace.

Chapeau Rouge. This is a seedy underground nightclub that is all about dancing till you drop, scoring drugs and hooking up. The vampires who feed here desire raw passions and people who live on the edge between two worlds, while also being able to make connections to the underworld. Vitae is rich with sanguine taste.

St. Margaret's. This deconsecrated church houses a shelter and soup kitchen for the homeless, and a youth center which offers activities to keep the kids off the streets. Vampires who come here look for anonymous meals or are interested in the atmosphere of despair and a last flicker of hope. Blood tends to have a phlegmatic flavour.

Paper/Cut. This is an off-beat gallery in an old villa which features a plethora of works from as yet unrecognized artists while also hosting poetry slams, performance art happenings and other events of the sort. Vampire visitors seek cerebral experiences and like to prey on the gifted and their patrons. Vessels often have a melancholic aftertaste.

The Rialto. This is a glitzy bar where the attractive and overworked 20-30 somethings congregate after work to see and be seen. It's a watering hole for vampires who like to feed on unbridled ego and the urge to compete. It's also great to make important connections in the upper echelons of the mortal world. Bloodletting provides a strong choleric savour.

Many of the stories individual briefings are tied to and all of the blackbox scenes during our first day of play will play out against the backdrop of the above-mentioned places.

Remnant of both mortal aristocrats before the Revolution and the bloody reign and defeat of Therion, the Old Castle, has long been shunned by the Kindred. For those old enough to remember, it brings back bad memories. For those too young to understand, the massive old manour house that sits abandoned in an overgrown garden at the outskirts of the City, is a subject of wild speculation. 

The venue of our game will represent the Old Castle.

The Camarilla's position on sectarianism may be clear, and no Kindred valuing their unlife would ever openly profess to be a member of one of the many hidden cults that have sprung up over the last few centuries.

However, there have been rising suspiciouns, veiled accusations and a lot of paranoia, that some of the denizens of the City owe their true allegiance not to the Ivory Tower but to the ideology of the Bahari, the Inconnu or the Sabbat, seeking to turn others to their cause through subtle manipulation and killing those who come to close to discovering their true identities. 

For the past five decades the Camarilla has feared the coming of a Second Inquisition. At first the strict ban on using communications technology and the lethal measures with which Masquerade compliance have been enforced seemed enough.

Ever since the Beckoning has begun, drawing Kindred away to the East for reasons unknown, leading to fatal gaps in Camarilla hierarchies and networks, control has become relaxed, perhaps fatally so.

The Kindred of the City whisper a word found in scrawled writings next to charred corpses or imparted hastily by informants who vanish into the dark, never to be seen again.

Firstlight.

No one knows, what Firstlight is exactly. Investigations have been launched, suspicious humans captured and interrogated, all to know avail. They have a more perfect Masquerade than even the Kindred.

Firstlight is rumoured to have access to next-gen surveillance technology and modern weapons systems. They are said to operate in cells without direct contact. Rumour goes, some of them may be psychic. Some believe they have even turned some Kindred informant.

They are all-powerful. They are unknowable. They are every conspiracy theory rolled into one, a human mirror to the Camarilla. 

Firstlight is a bogeyman. 

Every death can potentially be blamed on them, every rival eliminated, every haven burned, every ghoul stolen, every influence network taken over. Oh no, it wasn't that jealous neighbour, it was a common enemy we all believe in. 

Firstlight is very convenient.

And while many Kindred might make use of that fact, something called Firstlight, whatever it really is, is very real. And sooner or later, they might actually follow the trail.