Philip Whelks: No-one knows how long Whelks has existed in the West Wing. He's always been there, like a dusty piece of furniture at the back of an attic, offering the dregs of Kindred society a place to gather despite his bitter, acerbic personality. Tall and gaunt, appearing somewhere in his mid-sixties, Whelks makes a point of appearing impeccably dressed no matter how miserable his surroundings. He bluntly refuses to answer questions about his past, which of course only fuels even more rumours - the most frequent accuse him of being a deposed Prince or Seneschal who fell out of favour, but proved too useful for his successor to kill or punish with Torpor. In either case, Whelks remains well-connected and well-informed, passing out advice to those Kindred who wash up on his doorstep regardless of his naked resentment towards everyone around him.

Lucy Thompson/'Shakes': Young and waifish, with short blonde hair and large eyes, Lucy enjoyed a few short ears as one of the West Ward's rare shining stars. Her talents as a photographer were well-known by Newark's cultural circles and her depictions of the vast slum's awful conditions briefly inspired a fitful wave of urban renewal programs. Sadly, her brief fame brought her to the attention of a local Daeva, who seduced, embraced, then abandoned her when her talents began to fade. The experience left Lucy confused and traumatized, and while she has begun to recover and adapt to her new existence, it left her with a pronounced stutter and nervous tic.

Christopher Tanhurst: Christopher is a large man in his mid-40's, heavily set and balding with a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose that went out of style years ago. A successful investment banker, he was assaulted by an inexperienced Ventrue who drew too much blood and embraced him rather than let the man die. Though forced to cut ties with his family and quit his job, he still earns enough money offering freelance financial advice over the internet to live on one of the West Ward's better streets. While woefully ignorant about his condition, Christopher remains pleasant and genial, if perpetually confused.

Kirsty Jones: Once a minor member of the Domain, Kirsty found she lacked the patience and cunning necessary for the endless political games of her peers. Stubbornly independent, she publicly renounced the Prince's laws and fled to the West Ward, carving out a secure haven and creating a pack of Ghouls to help protect her. Impatient, irreverent, and tempestuous to the last, the bald, gaunt Nosferatu has since settled in quite comfortably as the queen of her little gang of thugs and lunatics, being one of the Ward's few denizens to not only survive, but thrive.

Richard Whiteman: Richard stands as testament both to the cruelty of the Domain's elders and the power of the Vinculum. Short but well-muscled, with dark hair and a sharply cut beard, Richard carved out a niche as an illegal arms dealer until he was Embraced by an elder Ventrue who required a loyal proxy who understood mortal society. Bound not only by the link to his sire but a forced Vinculum, the promise of being officially recognised by the Domain was continually dangled above Richard's head, right up until his sire was killed by a rival. Bitter, introverted and resentful, Richard was left to drift aimlessly into the West Ward, torn between hating the Domain and desperately wanting what he's owed.

Jay Woodruff: It's rare, but occasionally the Embrace brings out the best in someone. In life, Jay was just another black gang thug, breaking legs and dealing drugs because he saw no reason not to - life in the Ward was so bad, nothing he did to anyone would really matter. The only memory he has of his sire is pale face and the note he awoke to, explaining in coldly scientific terms the rules of his new state of being. Tall and fit, still sporting his old gang tattoos and piercings, the experience brought about an epiphany; things could always get worse, but if they could, maybe they could always get better. A Mekhet, Jay now runs a faltering neighborhood watch scheme, attempting to curb the worst of the West Ward's violence, at least on a few streets.

Samantha Harvey: Just one of the hundreds of prostitutes working the West Ward, Samantha stood out from her peers by merit of her sheer, bloody-minded survival instinct. By her 23rd birthday she had been attacked almost a dozen times, escaping each encounter while often leaving her assailants badly wounded or, in three cases, dead. It was this which brought her to the attention of Rick Bowman, one of the West Ward's older Gangrel. She took the embrace eagerly, seeing it as a way out of her current existence, and maybe out of the Ward itself. Beautiful, if statuesque and imposing, Samantha has gradually taken on a more predatory aspect to her personality, seeking to claw together enough money to buy her way out no matter what.

Rick Bowman: Like Philip Whelks, Rick Bowman is one of the West Ward's long-term residents. The only son of a family killed in a violent robbery, he found himself homeless and alone at 17 but has never shared the circumstances of his Embrace. Certainly he was tough and resourceful beforehand, traits which have only become more pronounced since, and he has become far more comfortable on the streets than off them. Over the decades he has evolved into a feral, shamanistic acetic with no interest in leaving the Ward and nothing but contempt for the Domain, seeking to master himself and his Disciplines rather than pursue political ideals.