March 4th 1916

Born in 1264 as Matthew Radist, he was the first and only son of this last line of peasants. His father who was a scribe for the local merchants in Liverpool was relatively well read and could afford to help pay for Mathew's education. Mathew was soon brought into the family business, helping his father to scribe the workings that was needed. Working for his father at a young age he often took time to himself to do what he wished - this mainly consisting of drawing, using the discarded and useless scrap paper that was at hand. Even at an early age, his ability showed through, marking him different.

Much like most gifted children, Mathew was different, finding comfort in his art, not mixing well with the other children. And like most children that were different he was picked on. He never told anyone of this of course, instead preferring to stay in with his father in his workshop, drawing or helping him out when he could.

Life continued on for a while, Mathew turned 12 that year. That was when things began to turn out bad for them, the Inquisition was in full swing by now and those that were different were being picked on. And Mathew was different, different enough to cause the others to speak of his parents and him. Still, this was not enough to bring any real problems. However an old work by Mathew was given to them, done when he was only 8.

While still quite crude in nature it was still very good, better than what most would normally see. But that was not the problem, the problem was what the picture detailed. It showed the other children who had taunted and bullied him hung by neck in trees, each of them done in detail. A child's way of getting back but coupled with Mathew's gift, it was done very realistically.

The Inquisitors, in their zeal took this as enough proof that Mathew was a demon and should be banished, brought to flame. His parents refused to let this happen to him and were thrown into the same cells, all to be burnt the next day.

However Mathew never made it there, instead he was carried away in the night by a ghoul, following the orders of his mistress, wishing to guard this child and his gift. His saviour was Michelle Carstel an Elder of Clan Toreador. She had heard rumours of a child who's art was strange and had investigated, watching quietly as Mathew did his work. She did not wish to interfere at that time, instead just keeping an eye on what happened to him, hoping at a later date to step in to help him along with his work. The Inquisition's arrival and his imminent death changed these plans.

Her ghoul, Marius broke in and took Mathew out who was asleep, having drugged the food that they were all to take. He brought the sleeping Mathew's body out and to his Mistress's haven, staying clear of people. And then they lay low, his parents were burnt at the stake while Mathew was kept drugged for this time. A few days later he was allowed to awaken to the sight of Michelle.

While Michelle had been chosen for her ability to do incredible works of sculpture, she had not the full gift that Mathew had, at least not in the same proportion.. However it was not only her gift that her sire had wished to capture, it was her beauty too. And this beauty had only been enhanced in the years that had passed after her embrace.

He fell in love with her, the way most teenagers are wont to at his age. A puppy love of sorts but one that Michelle did nothing to stop. Instead she encouraged this, helping him get over the regrettable death of his parents, she explaining that it had been impossible for them to be rescued to. And then once she had given him a suitable period of grieving to her mind (which turned out to be 2 years, by that time Mathew having already having healed and started his art by himself again) she began to urge him on, pushing his art ahead.

Michelle never subjected him tot he blood bond, at his age the blood would have stopped him growing. Instead she controlled him using simpler and more effective methods in the long run, keeping him to her side. He stayed with her, never questioning her strange habits, taking her words at face value. Then at 18 she told him the truth, explaining the world that they lived in and who really controlled the strings. She explained to him why she kept her identity a secret, why she never let it on to others that she was different, a vampire, bringing up the memory's of his family's prosecution by the Inquisition, explaining that if the mortals had so little to act on then and would dare go that far, what chance did she have of explaining herself?

He took her words in, and while horrified he was not completely shocked. He was not dumb by any means and he had an inkling of what she had been but had instead refused to acknowledge it till then. He asked to be left alone and thought the matter over for a few days and at last spoke once more to her, accepting her for what she was, reasoning that she could not be evil since she had saved him from harm and had never harmed him.

Michelle then quietly began to introduce him to the Kindred world, quietly showing him and his work off to her friends and her childe. The childe, David Leed, sired only a bare 43 years ago began to feel jealous of Mathew's work, realising that his own could never compare. He would never acknowledge this fact but in the end, among the greatest artists in the world his own paled, unable to match them. Still he said nothing, smiling and congratulating his Sire on her new find.

During this time Michelle began to make preparations for Mathew's introduction into Cainite society as an equal of sorts, making plans to sire him. Not really requiring the Prince's consent, still she began to manoeuvre to get it from him and also finding her sire to see of his approval of her choice. Her Sire Antoine, deciding at last to come and visit her once more and to travel the great distance, not having done so for David's Embrace, feeling it would be best to see who his Childe intended to introduce to their culture.

It was thus that Antoine met his two grand childer for the first time in the Autumn of 1287. And this meeting went very well for Mathew, Antoine acknowledging that this was a kine who would make a good contribution to their exalted ranks. David he barely acknowledged, his aged eyes judging the work he had done easily and finding them lacking the spark.

Antoine decided to stay with his childer for a little while more, to be there when his Grand-Childe was embraced and to watch things go down. Mathew was told of his fate, given the choice of living his life out naturally or being embraced. He was even given the choice of putting this decision off, his Sire not wishing to damage him or his gift at all. And after all, they had time for the most part still.

While this was not a particular surprise for him he still found the question one that he had to ponder for a while, being allowed to. He took his time, still working on his art, Antoine who had branched out into painting in his time helping to show him what he should do, nurturing his talent.

And thus it was that when he was 26 that Mathew at last decided that he would take the gift offered to him. He accepted it and his Sire, wishing to make it a memorable experience took him to bed once more. Now Michelle had done this at times though not often, a method of keeping him to her. But this night she let him take control for once, the night an incredible experience for both of them. As dawn neared she took his blood from him, draining him dry and then feeding it back to him.

The next night, as they woke up as the sunset he really began to understand what it was to be one of the Damned. He felt his body dying slowly and yet everything, every single sense of his was heightened. He took it all in, at first too stunned to do much. Still his Sire had experience in this and her Grand-Sire too, both of them helping him understand what had happened him.

And it was then that they found out about his problem. They conjectured it might have something to do with the way he had been embraced or maybe it was psychological. Whatever the case he found he could only really gain sustenance from women, women who had been aroused.

Still, this did not really inhibit him that much, he was a relatively pretty boy and his Sire knew the art of seduction which she began to teach him and the rest of what he would need to know of his un-life. Still, the matter was not a problem, he having subsisted on the edges of it for so long already and thus 2 years later a Ball to present him as a full fledged Cainite was to be prepared.

While all this happened David simmered, angered that he, he!!! was being set aside for a whelp like Mathew, delegated the job of actually setting up the introduction Ball for Mathew. Still he dared do little while Antoine was around, afraid of the power that the Methusaleh radiated.

The Ball was a success and Mathew began to quickly assimilate himself into Cainite society, finding that he was accepted as an equal by many in his clan, his art and his blood sliding him in. And so Antoine, after looking things over and finding them relatively peacefully began his journey home, finding in himself a great tiredness and need for sleep. He spoke quietly to Michelle before he left, warning her of David's continuing jealousy. And then he left, returning back to his resting place.

Michelle however did not believe that David would, could hate her, she who had given him the greatest gift of all and so she forgot this warning. David during this time had stayed quiet but soon after Antoine's leaving he began to associate with the more restless factions of childer like him, who were resentful of their place and wanted more.

Still, David's fear of reprisal overcame his hatred for a long while until at last one night in the Summer of 1343 (53 years after Mathew's embrace), after being urged by his fellow Anarchs and having mistakenly drunk from one who had been a bit overzealous in his drinking he led his "friends" to his Sire's haven, there to destroy her and consume her hearts blood.

Unfortunately for them they were rather hasty in their preparations. As in to say they did not have any at all. And so when they stormed her haven they found themselves facing an Elder in all her anger, her Childer (for Mathew would not leave her side) and her ghouls waiting for them. Unfortunately, on the flip side of this, these Anarchs were of a greater number them then. The fighting was intense and furious but in the end Mathew and his Sire won out.

David fled from the scene, having badly beaten up his younger "brother" though Mathew had survived this. His Sire on the other hand had not been so lucky, instead having in a final exchange of blows with another Anarch fallen into Torpor. The battle had drawn local authority's and having to flee quickly, they fled with their remaining two ghouls.

Making it to a haven that had been prepared before hand, known only to the ghouls and Michelle herself. They carried her prone body in and then settled down, bedding down and hiding from the ruckus that would ensue.

They were unable to return to retrieve most of their belongings, the works of art and the rest being trapped in the haven which when they came back later would have been stripped.

They laid low for a while though Mathew had to leave to find some sustenance for himself, having to force himself not to frenzy when he came across the nearest mortal, knowing the blood would not do him good. He left the mortal drained when he was through with her, feeling ashamed of what he did yet forced to, not able to spend time out to find another.

At last when things had quietened down and they realised that they would not be able to salvage what they wanted from the haven they left to go down to London, seeking refuge. They brought Michelle's torpored body with them, keeping an eye out for Lupines and hoping not to be attacked. The journey there was troublesome and scary but they made it there at last. Presenting himself in front of Mathius and explaining what had happened he received shelter for the time being, quickly finding a place for himself and his sire to stay.

In London Mathew began to learn of the real politics of Kindred society, alone by himself and having to fend for both his sire's body and his own self. He was a quick learner though and he found that the same tactics that worked against mortals so well seemed at times to work as well with Cainites, especially the stroking of ego's. He soon made himself known in the area, starting once more his art but then realising he would have to set that aside for the moment.

He began to realise that he had little choice in finding resources and ways to protect both himself and Michelle, their small store of money quickly running out. Still he had seen what his Sire had done, he began to work his way into London's high society. He turned his charms on the lady's there, pulling money out of the nobles that flocked there, a pretty boy for them. A pretty boy that soon learnt the secrets of them and their husbands which he could soon exploit, finding his Presence discipline of use then.

He played it quite for the most part though, rarely brokering his new found muscle out or even using it beyond normal subsistence for him and his sire. And so he stayed, playing the game quietly. He did his best to stay on the sidelines, not taking part as much as he could. Still, at times he was drawn into the conflicts that surrounded the city and he found increasing need to tell what was the truth and what not. And so he began to train his Auspex up, teaching himself how to read objects at first and then people slowly, the years rolling by. And still his sire slept.

The Council of Thorns came and went and she still slept. Never an Anarch and finding the whole thing distasteful he found himself relegated into the Camarilla. Not that he really minded though, after all many of his peers were here… and those Toreadors that had joined the Anarchs were for the most part different.

It was in 1436 that his sire at last woke up again. Fortunately he was around to stop her from frenzying too much, having taken precautions just in case. He got her the blood she needed and watched as she slowly calmed down, beginning to question him on what had happened. He spent the next few months tutoring her, teaching her what had changed and speaking of this Convention of Thorns.

She soon emerged into the halls of power once more, slowly establishing herself. He in turn watched as she took control once more and began to realise that as much as he loved her and trusted her he had grown used to taking care of himself. And so he asked her leave to travel the city's of the world, to see the beauty's that he had missed so far.

She gave him leave and went back to finding out about the state the world was in now and how she could profit, falling once more into the political games of their kind, giving him as a gift one of the two ghouls that had survived the fight. His name was Mikhail and was actually the very same ghoul that had taken him out in the first place.

He spent the next 160 plus years travelling, at times stopping in a city for a while, sometimes even so much as 2 decades as in the case of Paris, learning from those who would teach, studying the works that had come before him. But even then, traveling and moving about as he did he found that he had to continue to hone his ability's, finding it useful to scout ahead in his astral form, learning where and what problems that they might encounter on their journeys.

He also began to learn during this time how to touch others with his mind, to establish a more powerful contact in the minds, this research having come about due to curiousity at first in whether or not he could transmit feelings. And receive them, making his hunting for feeding purposes much easier.

At last he returned back to England, having made a trek through the greater part of Southern Europe, Spain, France, Italy, Germany, etc. He returned to his Sire and enjoyed her company for a short period, she hosting a ball in his honour and in showcasing the work he had done through his travels off. And this was where he first met his rival, Cassandra Withers.

A young woman to look at, her beauty… mediocre really. What did bring her attention was her mind, having ranked herself among the harpy's of the day and age. She came to the Ball and began to smilingly undercut his work. He took it in his stride for the most part it was aclaimed and even she had to admit that some of it was worth consideration even by their standards. He later learned after the Ball that she herself had done a presentation like this a short while ago and her work had not been as praised as much.

Not wishing to judge her on this alone just yet he had a look at her work and had to agree, for all that she had the Gift like him, her last set had not had the touch that her others had done. He accidentally mentioned this within hearing distance of others and by the time it came to her it had been greatly over-exaggerated as these things are wont to do.

And thus a rivalry occurred sprung up between them, at first born of spite and after a while it slowly became slightly more friendly. A long while that is. They competed at first and still do in their art. It was just that after a while the competition shifted awy from that, headed to more diverse directions. This included anything from stand up debates on things to who knew more about certain unknown occult passages to who had pulled off the latest Ball the best. And yet somewhere along the line they each realised that while they might dislike the other they had found another who could match them in what they did and who could drive each other to greater and greater heights.

Still, if matters had stayed as they were, both in the same city it would have likely have resulted in one or the others death since the rivalry's became to top one another off. In this time though Mathew had finished perfecting his ability to communicate telepathically, something he was quite happy with and then in 1674 things changed.

It didn't stay the same because David, having joined the Sabbat which had reformed had come back to finish what he had started. Now a pack leader he brought his pack to London quietly, waiting for a time when Mathew was relatively alone and then he launched his attack with his pack mates on the unsuspecting Mathew, hoping to kill him quickly.

Unfortunately David was not that much luckier this time than before, Mathew's Auspex telling him that something an attack would occur. The first attack did not kill him even if it grievously hurt him. He ran away quickly, dropping into one of the many sewers that lined London even then and tried to lose his attackers in there. By tapping into the minds of his pursuers he was able to stay hidden from them, knowing what they intended to do. Unfortunately he had limits and as he was almost free one of the Lasombra found him, wrapping shadows around him and holding him tight.

As he was about to be killed off the pack found itself surrounded, the Nosferatu alerted of their presence in their sewers. The pack was quickly beaten away and the unconscious body of Mathew was taken back to his Sire. For a price of course… one that she would later pay. ((Note : That price consisted of two things, one was she taught 2 of the elders of the Nosferatu Auspex. The second was to help the Nosferatu push through a request for certain parts of the sewers to be closed down and more work done on other areas))

Mathew stayed in Torpor for a long period of time, not only his body having suffered damage but his mind too in a way, never having had to deal with the alien thoughts of a Sabbat member before. It was nearly 77 years later that he woke up.

Even before he had finished learning how of what had fully occurred that his Sire summoned him to her. She explained what she wished to teach him, something that had been taught to her by her Sire and something that she felt that he would need in time. She did not and would not explain more but began his lessons in how to use their Auspex in a different way, teaching him how to focus in on something or someone who he knew.

2 years after she first started upon this path she at last told of him why she had wished him to learn this. It seemed like David was still alive even now and that he had risen to some power. She felt that it was her duty as his Sire to deal with him and that she had wanted Mathew to know of this method and to learn it, as it was part of their blood. She would be leaving in a few months time, Mathew knew enough of her contacts here to handle them while she was gone. He protested, asking her to let him do this but she refused him, after all she was David's Sire. And so she left him. Mathew, a good Childe still did as she had wished him to, taking up her contacts and influences and continuing his study of the derivation. She had told him that it might take a short while before she could return, maybe even 20 or even 30 years since she did not intend to rush into this. And so he waited and learned and began his rivalry once more with Cassandra who was still around.

10 years passed. Then 15. And Mathew began to fear but he remembered what she said and waited. And time flowed by and 50 years passed after she left him. And he began to fear. At last, he turned his Auspex on her, trying to find her. And failed again and again. He slowly accepted that she was likely dead, that being the only limitation that he know of as yet. On that day he marked her dead, the 7th of July, 1803.

He next turned to his bastard "brother" David, searching for him using the same methods. And he found nothing too. This disturbed him and so he went to the one people who he felt would know of these matters if any would. He spoke to the Nosferatu and they told him of what they had heard for a fee of course. This was a minor token though and easily payed for in the secrets that David had gleaned in his time.

What he was told and put together with what he knew was this, a lady fitting his Sire's description had found the resting place of David's new pack and then had slowly picked them off one by one, leaving David for last. Unfortunately she had not understood what David's pull was in the area and even as she moved in to kill David a group of others bearing a strange crescent moon insignia all had come after her. She was able to kill off David before they got to her but even she fell to them. Mathew soon found that he could not stay in England anymore, during his time with her he had travelled many of the city's sometimes' for a few days to a ball, other times to visit a good friend or for any other reason. And so he packed his bags, leaving with Mikhail for the New World.

They arrived in Boston, making their way through the harbour and watching the city quietly, taking it in quietly. He introduced himself to the Prince and realised that the Prince here was not much older than he himself. And that many of the Primogen not even that. Not wishing to disrupt their life too much he kept quiet of his own age as far as he could, instead choosing to stay quiet for now, not in the mood to immerse himself into the political games once more.

However he found himself drawn in once more, unable to keep out of it due to the plots driven through here. And so he took a part in it, very quickly establishing a base of power for himself, his ability to understand and even relate to a certain aspect to the middle class helping him along. But more than this was the growing realisation that the Sabbat, that group that had killed his sire and that had harboured his "brother" were in great number here.

He took the role of Primogen in Boston in 1821, accepting a place on the council and then turned his eye to finding and suppressing the Sabbat. He kept his involvement in this area as quiet as possible though, not wishing to be targeted by them in turn, instead preferring to keep an image that seemed to have been carried over, a Toreador degenerate, one who was out to find the full pleasures of life.

Still, even this image did not hide his manoeuvring in the halls of Elysium fully and he realised that he was beginning to be targeted, partially for the knowledge that they had learnt that he possessed, stolen from their members minds. And so he gave up his seat and left the city in 1894, instead travelling to other Camarilla held city's, wishing to see what had occurred there. He preferred to keep himself anonymous for the most part, not wishing to alarm the other Princes in the area by his arrival, instead normally arriving like a neonate would and then leaving again soon afterwards, the city's in America while bustling and full of life had none of the artistic beauty that many of the older city's did. During his travels the first World War came and went and he watched and heard of it, himself feeling a part removed from the fighting like most other Kindred.

As the Great Depression came about he found feeding easier but also found that the culture and the art he so loved seemed to shatter during this time of need and his thoughts turned to Europe once more even as he continued to travel the New World (encompassed Canada too though not much since he kept to the more civilised places always). And as he made plans to return, travelling with Mikhail to New York he heard of the growing rumbles of a war to be fought again. He stopped, considering the matter, not wishing to throw himself into back into a place war torn. He had seen some of the battles that had occurred during Napoleon's reign and the battles that had been fought now was spoken to be greater and to be more destructive.

He decided to wait and he watched as the war once more broke out between the great nations of the world. The influx of Kindred who fled the war torn Europe convinced him that he had been right to wait and so he stayed in America for a while more, at last deciding to leave it only in 1951 when he was certain that the war had at last settled down.

On arriving in London he realised exactly how badly the war had destroyed his former home, how much had been wrecked and bombed away. This was the first time that he realised that the weaponry that he had watched grow from unwieldy instruments that were as dangerous to their wielders as it was to the opponent to these new machine pistols that they owned was actually a threat to them, Cainites.

Still, that was one matter another that captured his attention more quickly was that Mathius had disappeared. And that this Lady Anne had taken his place. His rival, oh his rival Cassandra had propsered during this time of war, unlike him having stayed and actually ocnfronted in head on. She had gained a great deal of power now, taking hold of the reins of power and influence thrown down by the other Elders who had fled.

Something else that captured his attention was the sudden resurgence of his work. Yes, his work. Work that he had done ages ago, when he was still a childe. He didn't understand how such work could have made it so long but and how it could have lasted through the ages. And who had it. He looked it over and still he could not dispute the fact. He knew it was his.

And so he bent his mind to this, hunting for this individual who had decided to not only preserve his works of art but to sell them off to others as his own. It took him a long time but at last he came across who it was, a Setite who had found his work. He had set some misleading information to send Mathew off on a tangent, hoping to sow discord between him and another Toreador. Unfortunately he made an error in that and before Mathew had taken too drastic steps he had learnt of what had went wrong. The Setite found himself his haven burning in the middle of the day soon afterwards, Mathew having a dim view of this plagiarism. And since the Setite was not a member of the Camarialla he knew he would likely get away with it if someone found out of it which as far as he knows no one has as yet.

By the time he was done with this, tracking through the lines and lines of deciet and misinformation it was 1974. He took one look at the fashion that passed as fashion at that day and age and quietly decided that he would not take it. So he took the next 20 years off, taking his time to go back to doing what he did best really, his art. He attended Elysium as normal and even went to the Balls but he faded from the political scene for the most part once more, this time achieving his ends.

This was not only his doing, Casandra did not wish him to gain any influence and thus headed off attempts to include him in the Jyhad for now, watching quietly. And then she met with him and spoke quietly, asking him whether or not he could once more regain a position of power in the world. She goaded him and worded it right, forcing him to take her up on it. They brought in a mortal and had him throw a single dart blinfolded, the city closest to it would be where he would try for power once more.