By Jason C. Marshall and Chris Miles
He spun, a small but deadly automatic in each hand.
"Whoa, cool it, man. I ain't packing." The youth was in his early twenties with a shaven head, hate tattoos every where and wearing jeans and T-shirt.
"You him?"
"Him who?"
"Don't screw with me."
"Yeah, I'm the Brujah contact."
Jim thumped the top of the limo once. The door opened and a well-dressed man stepped out. He regarded both the skinhead and Jim.
"So you're the high and mighty Tremere who's come to kick some butt, eh?"
Indeed, childe, indeed." The Tremere brought up one hand as if to wave off a fly.
"Well, I've got some good news and some bad, Mr. Tremere."
The Tremere's eye's narrowed.
"The good is that the Brujah don't need no help anymore. The bad is that --" The skinhead suddenly stumbled forwards and dropped to the ground. Blood began to trickle out of his ears, mouth and nose.
The Tremere calmly got back into the limo and motioned for Jim to do the same.
"What's wrong, boss?"
"In about ten seconds this place will be crawling with Wermis. We are going to die, but not without taking a few with us."
"Wermis? I thought he was a Brujah."
The Tremere chuckled softly.
"There are many things you do not quite understand yet, a pity you'll not live to do so. Now I suggest you ready your guns."
Jim looked up to see a small crowd of people approaching. They were all skinheads and each and every one of them had eyes that glowed blood red in the darkness.
Gifted with the speed of the Brujah, the shapechanging ways and animal magnetism of the Gangrel, these kindred slowly began to filter out into what would eventually become Germany. Their ability to sink into the earth during the day prevented their discovery by rival clans, such as the Ventrue, Brujah and Tremere, who had agents all through the area. Eventually a Brujah Archon met with one of these kindred.
The Archon returned, spitting curses about uncouth, ill-mannered, vermin who dared to presume that they were of Brujah blood. The Archon nicknamed them 'Vermin', for that is what they were in his eyes, and said they'd be better off destroying the bloodline.
Many of the Vermin died during the next few years, as agents of the Ventrue, Tremere and Brujah hunted them down and put them to the fire and stake. But the Vermin persevered, and struggled to survive. They took to calling themselves 'Wermis', the German word for Vermin, saying until they were accepted they would carry the name given them so long ago.
In the later years, members of the Wermis were seen in the various radical groups of the fledgling Germany. They were the warmongers and racists who sought to have Germany as world leader. It was members of their bloodline that fought in both world wars, and it is rumored that Hitler was secreted away by members of this bloodline.
Brujah-like in nature, the Wermis are currently based in Berlin and a number of cities and towns all around the Black Forest. It known that they have declared war on the Garou tribe, the Get of Fenris, for ousting them from the Black Forest, a place they considered home, and more practiced protean users of the bloodline often lead strikes into the Garou holdings within the forest.
The Wermis are not well enamored with those of the Camarilla, and it is suggested that they are in league with the Sabbat, though any Wermis will vehemently deny such claims, often backing them up with the threat of physical harm if such talk continues. In reality, the Wermis have joined in with the Anarchs, seeing them as a way to reaching their goals.
"Vermin. Straight and simple. And what does one do with vermin? Exterminate them."
Sabbat: You got the right idea but are going about it all wrong. You guys are as messed up as Mud. Mud, get it? Hahaha.
"I think just this once, I will agree with our 'esteemed' colleagues in the Camarilla. Extermination."
Anarchs: The right idea and the right way to do it.
"These guys are ok. Just what we need in our fight against the stodgy old bastards in both the Camarilla and Sabbat."
Inconnu: The what??
"We will watch them closely"