Richthofen Castle

“We Kindred few, we Kindred proud, we Kindred not to be counted out. Mourn those who will not see another night. And then rise. Steel yourself. This hall has fallen, but like us, the Camarilla stands. We do not need a salon. We do not need a sitting room or gallery. Instead a bastion of civilization and civility, a rock against the encroaching tide of the Sabbat, a castle of our principles and a keep of our traditions. I offer my haven as that Elysium. My house is yours; while it stands we stand together.” - Helmer Rasmussen, Brujah Primogen and de facto leader of the Camarilla in Denver

Richthofen Castle, once Elysium in the nights before the reign of the carpetbagger Prince Winthrop and now Elysium again, having been named so by Rasmussen at the end of his now-infamous speech in the Sabbat-burnt husk of the one before. Built in 1888 by Baron Walter von Richthofen, the uncle of the Red Baron, it is Rasmussen's gift to the Camarilla who remain. A place of safety and security in the midst of the Monclair neighborhood of Denver, the grounds and three-dozen-room castle takes up the majority of a suburban square block and is obscured from the street by a thick treeline and its carefully manicured underlying foliage.

A wall, a gated entrance, all stand in one's path before the front facade is encountered. Its exterior is that castle of stone slabs and mortar that Rasmussen promised. The interior has all the salons, kitchens, drawing rooms, everything that he said they did not need. A nod to the past. But the basement is a stunningly modern bunker, ready for running the war they are now fighting, a testament to the old Brujah's preparedness, and as entrenched as the Sect itself.

The actual number of security guards is indiscernible between changes in shift, patrols of the grounds, and the coming and going of vans with tinted windows and run flat tires. Kindred who have made themselves known to the Sheriff or Rasmussen are allowed entrance, given long range RFID cards with hardwired manual chips necessary for any uncomplicated arrival. The Sabbat who attacked it during the early nights of the siege were easily rebuffed by only his retainers, finding its stain glass sheathed in bullet proof, its turrets manned with silenced sniper rifles, its fire suppression system a match for their Molotov cocktails and torches. Many Kindred are bolstered by that fact now that they call this place their keep.

Lucille, the Toreador Primogen, hosts Elysium in its long hall, the interior in a near-constant state of redecoration thanks to her attentions. She hosts the finest mortal musicians to play on the grand piano, and Boroque period paintings now hang beside relocated works of modern multimedia and graffiti artists.