Toreador Grand Maestro

You are the quintessential artistic genius of a generation.

You could play the classics of the great masters before you could read. You could play any laid your hands on. You were just five when you played for the King of Austria.

As a virtuoso, you would have coasted to artistic immortality while enjoying a life of luxury and decadence. But destiny had other plans for you.

A jealous rival sent thugs to kidnap you on your eighteenth birthday. They cut off every finger so you could not play music. They burst your eardrums to deafen you. They blinded your eyes so that you would never read musical notes ever again.

Your life collapsed overnight. You contemplated suicide as you lay in awful silence for the first time. That moment of despair was fleeting, replaced by a surge of rage.

One year later, an opera debuted in Vienna whose buffoonish villain closely resembled your rival. The story mocked and lampooned your enemy, destroying a man’s life through acclaim and applause.

A vampire from Clan Toreador embraced you, your undeath healed your grievous injuries and restored your ability to play music once more.

Now you have an eternity to create your glorious, cutting and satiric music. Woe to any fool who thinks they can rival your brilliance.