Esther

Advantages:
Let Sleeping Dogs Lie-Esther’s penchant for animals allows her to calm one animal target to the point of sleepiness, +2 to Animal Ken
Street Rat-accustomed to life as a street urchin, Esther knows how to blend into the shadows and avoid suspicion, +1 to Stealth and Streetwise
Cryptic Encryption-part of remaining safe is remaining undetected, as such when communicating with allies Esther makes sure the code she uses is nigh indecipherable, -2 to enemy Investigation and Security rolls.
Disadvantages:
Bum Knee-Unlife doesn't fix all the maladies of a human life, and Esther's busted knee has unfortunately carried over into eternity. She is significantly slower when running away and oftentimes must be aided in getting around.
Filthy Peasant-Esther has never shied away from her "common" background, and despite attaining a high position among her clan, has yet to shirk her crass nature or cockney accent. -2 to Charisma rolls.

Animalism

• Feral Whispers
• Beckoning
• Song of Serenity

Obfuscate

• Cloak of Shadows
• Unseen Presence
• Mask of a Thousand Faces
• Vanish from the Mind's Eye
• Cloak of the Gathering

Potence

• Lethal Body

History:
Born 1620 in England to a dirt poor family in London, Esther grew up a street rat who learned how to lie, listen, and keep to the shadows to survive. In time, the girl began to make use of the gossip and secrets she picked up kneeling in the dirt and muck waiting for a discarded crust. She learned how to pick locks and pilfer where the wealthier businesses kept their stores of food, clothes, finery. Care always had to be taken in pawning off her spoils, but that gold and silver filled many a hungry belly, enough for her to keep doing it again and again. And no one ever suspected a mousey, skin-and-bones girl who couldn’t so much as read a letter. Or so they thought. The latter didn’t remain true for long, not when she realized how much knowledge was to be gained from reading through ledgers and secret correspondence. Young Esther undertook the long laborious process of teaching herself to read, yet in the city streets she played dumb as anything else, stuttering and stumbling in the accent of a country bumpkin. Having proven to be elusive, Esther grew bolder, sneaking into the bedrooms and studies of the wealthy and robbing them, then taking proof of important information and selling it to the highest bidder. And still, she avoided suspicion, and the Ghost of London became a common topic of conversation.

By the time Esther had entered her twenties, her operations had expanded into a network of spies and thieves. Such had not been her intention, but her soft heart just hadn’t felt right leaving people reliant upon her, and so she had allowed them to work with her. So was how she became the leader of a crime network full of urchins, beggars, and the desperate turned spies and blackmailers. The Ghost’s reputation grew, seeming to have eyes and ears everywhere. You didn’t hear them enter, did not see them, the dogs did not bark, nothing. You woke up with your most precious pieces gone and that letter to your mistress absent from your study. It was during one of her own personal jaunts that she stumbled across what seemed to be the ravings of a madman, ranting about disgusting corpse-like monsters. The mark had been a man who had grown fat and wealthy off of grave-robbing. She had felt little sorrow about selling him out, but his writings had made her curious as to the goings-on at the graveyard and stationed her people to observe. She sold off the proof of his illegal activity, the reports of supernatural monsters she kept for her own curiosity.

Afterwards, one of Esther’s agents informed her of a strange man who wanted a meeting with the Ghost of London face-to-face, supposedly for a business proposal. Normally, she would have outright rejected such a notion. What made this so unusual was that he knew her name. She at least had to seal the cracks in her carefully constructed identity, or lack thereof. Come the next nightfall, Esther made her way to their meeting place, the local graveyard. There she came upon the ugliest man she had ever met, like something out of the journal she had stolen. It was all true, he said, every word, and that Esther had done well to expose the man but keep the monsters a secret. He spoke of how he found himself impressed that such a plain woman from the slums had gotten so far, and yet remained cognizant of her origins. How such cleverness should not have been wasted with a mortal death. A human did not return home a few nights later, but a Nosferatu skulked back and shuttered the windows. Not even Esther’s agents ever saw her face again.

Now making her home in Santa Monica, Esther continues her work behind the scenes, having continually adapted to advances in technology and mastering it. All of Santa Monica is under her vigilant surveillance, and she makes ample use of Schrecknet while she sits in her haven with her pet rats. Esther was never pretty by any means, and has adjusted rather smoothly to her new grotesque visage. She’s more than used to hiding her face. Much as in life, Esther has unexpectedly found herself in a position of responsibility, this time for her fellow Nosferatu ousted from their sewers by the mad Black Spiral Dancers. Cut off from any outside aid, her people in their desperation took to the streets, becoming a mass liability of the Masquerade. They needed someone to organize them. Seeing no one else step up, Esther took up the responsibility. Isolated and scattered, Esther and her network of Nosferatu are the only Kindred in LA making concerted efforts to reclaim territory from the Dancers. All are well aware that on her head be the consequences.